Circular reasoning
by TFALokiwriter
Summary: "Such things do not happen; therefore, this cannot be happening either." Satek's fifth principle or the Vulcan way of being in disbelief when your former first captain turned admiral -ooops-pops up unexpectedly.
1. Prologue

Michael was cuffed, awaiting her trial that would be attended by one prosecutor and three high ranking star fleet officers. One admiral, one commodore, and one fleet captain. She was in her command gold separated from the rest of the reporters by a steady stream of security officers. She was blocking out the sound in a heavy meditation. The calm interior within her mind palace kept her away from the unwanted loud noises. It had been Sarek's doing, during her childhood, teaching Michael to use it when dealing with her grief after losing her parents. It had proven helpful. Releasing her emotions mentally somewhere else when a trigger came up. The trauma of it was a different subject entirely. Sarek, on the most part, Michael believed that he had failed in some regard for the longest time. The long mind meld had proven to her otherwise.

"Michael." came a familiar woman's voice.

Michael exited the mind palace.

"Michael," Philippa said. Michael saw Philippa standing in front of her.

"Philippa," Michael greeted with a nod.

"I explained what really happened," Philippa said. She cleared her throat. "I should have listened to you. You . . . You were my first officer."

"I was emotionally compromised," Michael explained. "my. . ." she cleared her throat. "my logic was. . ." she shook her head unable to finish. "impaired." there was disappointment in her voice. "I deserve punishment for killing a Klingon. That is the core of the battle. I killed a Klingon."

"It was an accident," Philippa said.

"It was a _flyby_ ," the dark woman reminded the older woman. A harsh reminder of reality that she deserved discipline. "I disobeyed direct orders. Stripped of rank. . . imprisoned. . . banished from Star Fleet. . . I deserve that much for the loss of qualified officers."

"Star Fleet can forgive you," Philippa said.

There was silence between the women.

"I have not earned that forgiveness from Star Fleet or the crew," Michael said. "And I do not deserve it. They almost lost you. That is unacceptable of a Star Fleet officer."

"Are you going to lie on the stand?" Philippa asked.

"I will speak of the truth," Michael said.

"Michael, I am as to blame as you are," Philippa said, sitting down alongside her. "I called for back up. I followed the regulations. I did not follow someone who is a xenoanthropologist, someone who knew the Klingons better than anyone on my ship, and I deserve being knocked down to Lieutenant."

"No," Michael said, her head turned toward the captain.

"Being a great captain means you _listen_ to your first officer," Philippa said.

"You deserve retirement not being demoted," Michael said.

"I acted like an admiral not a captain when I spoke with Admiral Anderson," Philippa said. She looked down toward her hands in shame. As if something invincible coated her hands. "Firing first was the right thing to do," Philippa sighed, accepting her mistake. "made a statement like the Vulcans did." she looked over toward the woman. "What you think you deserve I deserve."

"No," Michael said. "you don't."

"If you are court martial-ed then I should do," Philippa added. Michael cleaned her fingers together resisting the temptation of taking them and squeezing them.

"You did what you had to do as did I," Michael said. "the knowledge that Star Fleet fell into a skirmish even with regulations being followed will break Star Fleet apart. Less people eager to join. Cadets leaving Star Fleet," she shook her head. "we are explorers, not soldiers."

She can still see the confused face of Ensign Connor before her. The uncanny symptoms of a concussion. Blood visible on the side of his head. Scared. Watching a officer being sucked out into space. Just graduated Star Fleet academy last year. People were dead because of her. T'Kuvma, remarkably, was captured without being killed while the captain was injured but not fatally. Philippa reached out placing one hand on the younger woman's darker hands. It was the human way to comfort people by reaching out and squeezing their hands or their shoulders to know they are not alone. Michael had her mind closed off from the captain. She kept her distance from touching the minds of others without their permission. She can feel the captain's hope radiating from the well aged mind. She looked away from their hands toward the captain.

The doors across opened and Philippa took her hand off. "The officers are ready for your testimony," came the prosecutor.

"I believe in you," Philippa said, then she stood up and left.

The prosecutor entered the room only for the security gaurds who escorted Michael to and from entered the hallway.

"Ready, mutineer?"

Michael stood up then nodded and made her way in.

 **The End.**


	2. Chapter 1

"You are the mutineer of the USS Shenzhou," the captain spoke in standard.

It had been six months since the battle at Binary Stars. Hundreds of officers, dead. Hundreds of Klingon corpses floating in space. Star Fleet was able to retrieve most of the star fleet officers corpses leaving the Klingons to decide whether or not to retrieve their dead after the stunt pulled in their dead. They never retrieved the corpses. Michael's hair style was wild and free to the side but still kept short. She only nodded in return, her hands locked behind her back gripping onto her wrist while standing in the captain's ready room. There were Vulcan culture seen about the room. Replicas, even one of a lirpa. A large sehlat rested by the captain's desk. The man looked familiar yet he was older than her. Some Vulcan ships had well aged captains commanding them with graying hair but the majority of the captains had jet black hair. There was something familiar about him. She just could not shake it off.

"Interesting," the captain said. "you served six months of a lifetime imprison in a maximum security facility. Got bailed out by a admiral, I heard."

"Yes," Michael said.

"How was it?" the captain shook his hand. "Apologies, I never seen or heard of one. I only heard the penal colonies."

"It was adequate," Michael said.

"Adequate?" the captain asked.

"It was nothing to complain," Michael said. "given the circumstance, it was my new home." the older Vulcan had a unpleasant expression on his well aged face as he rubbed his chin looking at her. He was so expressionful for a Vulcan. She had never seen one embracing his emotions and controlling them at once. He was a open book compared to any in ShiKahr. He lowered his head.

"I am afraid that what you seek for, generic, is not going to be found here," the captain explained. "for now, until you find better living arrangements, this ship will be your new home."

"I do not understand," Michael said, looking at him strangely

"My ship is a old vessel," the captain explained. "it can be . . ." he faked a cough. "noisy."

"I have operated on a Walker class for seven years," Michael said.

"But you have never been disturbed by its engines?" the captain prodded.

"No," Michael said.

"My Vulcan crewmates speaks standard," the captain said. "they are . . ."

"T'tosh ka'tur?" Michael asked.

"That is a word I have not heard in. . ." the captain went lost in thought. He looked back toward the woman. "in a way, we are. . ." he nodded his head, surely, yet fondly. "Some of us may not be Vulcan. Some of us may be human. Some of us could be a Andorian with a human name. A few of us may have a mate. Or not have a spouse at all," he came over to his sehlat then gently rubbed the beasts forehead earning a purr. "We are connected," he looked up toward the woman. "We are family here."

"I take it you do not get much promotion aboard this ship," Michael said.

"They come here for the fun of it," the captain said. "I will give you . . two months. Young people like you cherish your sleep."

"This is a expedition vessel," Michael said.

"Yes," the captain said.

"I will deal with it," Michael said.

The captain stood up.

"You do not have to change your hair style to fit in with the others," the captain explained. "I retain my haircut as a reminder of who I am."

"Understood," Michael said.

"We will be departing Starbase one in twenty-four hours," the captain said. "You can always find a different assignment and ghost us."

"There is no other assignments," Michael said, flatly. The well aged Vulcan had a look of heartbreak then it vanished from his eyes. "You are the only one," it almost seemed that he would fall into his chair with a depressed sigh but he didn't. "The notification did not mention your name as it is customary for starship assignments."

The Vulcan stared back at her. It was almost as though rummaging around in his mind for his name. She could see the mental gymnastics that he was doing. It was as though he had forgotten his name which would be surprising for a Vulcanian captain. Mostly unusual. The captain sighed, leaning against the side of the counter with his arms folded. It was difficult to tell if he was making a name up or had just forgotten his name entirely. That struck her as odd.

"Just call me captain," the captain said. "everyone else has a name. I have a rule about that." he shook his index finger at her at each word. "now, what was your rank on the Shenzhou?"

"Commander," Michael asked.

"Good, that's your rank," the captain gave a small, weathered smile back.

"Do you have a first officer?" Michael asked, intrigued.

"My first officer is my mate," the captain said. "anyone can have any rank except for captain around here."

"I am surprised, most Vulcan expeditions have first officers," Michael said.

"My ship is different from typical Vulcan ships," the captain said, then put on a glove and reached out.

"That is not the Vulcan way," Michael said.

"On this ship. . ." the captain began. "a Vulcan expedition ship. We are multi-cultured," he raised an thinning grayed eyebrow. "You are human, are you not?"

"I am," Michael said. Then she took his hand.

"Welcome to the SS Valor," the captain said. "Commander Burnham."


	3. Chapter 2

Michael's entire body felt as though it was being ripped apart limb by limb, cell by cell, and it felt like every other part inside her body was being distorted. The transporter room solidified into view. A light blue woman looked up from the light themed screen. She collapsed to her knees where she puked. A rounded object came flying into the room cleaning up the puke. She looked up to see the chubby woman come over toward her side. She regulated her internal feelings regaining her breath.

"The only shift you had to come in was night," Michael looked up to see the Andorian was somewhere in her mid-fifties. "Mary Labberson. Call me Labberson."

Labberson held her hand out.

"I was distracted," Michael took the woman's forearm and was helped up to her feet. "my quarters had been vandalized."

"Vandalized?" Labberson asked, in horror. Most of it was in disbelief.

"Yes," Michael said.

"That must be terrible," Labberson said. She looked toward the large duffle bag. "That's it? Just one luggage?"

"Yes," Michael said.

The Andorian appeared to be sympathetic.

"When the captain said you were a Vulcan like individual I didn't think he was being serious about a human," she turned away then came over the panel. "Transporter room to Captain's ready room, Miss Burnham has arrived." Michael picked up her luggage listening to the familiar chirps. The older Andorian woman turned toward the young human turning off the transporter system. "This is a small ship. So you might be sharing your bathroom with T'Frank."

"T'Frank?" Michael said, as they came toward the doorway. "That doesn't sound Vulcan."

"Frank is a very unusual Dratch," Michael raised an eyebrow. A Dratch? Her mind wondered off to what knowledge she had about them. They were a very private species compared to the Vulcans. "He may have the pointy ears and bowl hair cut but he has a trunk and no eyebrows. Similar naming system on their planet. Frank means something else in his language and he refuses to talk about it for unspecified reasons."

"I understand," Michael said, as they came down the tight hall.

"The halls are normally empty because there is not enough for people to move around," Labberson said. "so we take a different route."

"What route is that?" Michael asked.

"Being where you need to be and having a small crew," Labberson said, then took a turn to the left. The two women came to a stop at the sound of squeaking. "T'Frank!"

A man with pointy ears, vertebrae visible under his forehead, and a elephants trunk that dangled from the center of his face to his chin was picking up what seemed to be tiny Cardassian Voles into his arms that were squeaking. He looked more like a Cardassian crossed with a Vulcan that had evolved in a climate that required a trunk. He had a Vulcan like bowl cut that seemed a bit long while he was in a steam punk like uniform that was a two piece. He was a odd man.

"Yes?" T'Frank asked.

"Do you need to be here?" Labberson asked.

"Yes," T'Frank said.

"Explain why you're not dealing with another issue that the captain tasked you an hour ago," Labberson said.

"This _IS_ the issue," T'Frank replied.

"This place is too tiny for Voles to infest this ship," Labberson said. "there is not enough room for these rats to thrive."

"Hahaha, nice one," T'Frank said. "Hello there," he looked at the woman with a creepy look on his face. "you're replacing David?"

"He was our former chief of security," Labberson said

"And Science," T'Frank added.

"Yes," Michael said. "I am. What happened to him?"

"Six months ago, we crossed the house of Kor who wanted a fight out of us," Labberson said. "I suppose this was after you started a conflict. . ." she had a sad expression on her face. "We had a heavy fight. We suffered many causalities including our bartender, and our friend, David. Had to be in space dock for a few weeks."

"And now since you've come we can finally leave federation space and explore some anomalies!" T'Frank said, excitedly then picked up another Vole. "I will take another way to sick bay, girls," he looked like the devil with the unfriendly smile. "See ya!" the man darted through another hallway that was apparently big enough for two people to walk side by side.

Michael looked over toward Labberson.

"Anomalies?" Michael asked. "I thought this is a expedition vessel."

"It is," Labberson said. "sometimes we come across anomalies no one wants to explore. Ones that Star Fleet or any federation member is not interested. The USS Intrepid might be interested but I am not sure for a deep space vessel they like to go into the kinds we go into. . ."

"This is a old vessel, is it not?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Labberson said.

"Vulcans would never take a never old vessel into a anomaly with the risk of being destroyed," Michael said.

"Our captain is certainly losing his logic as the day goes but that's life and we still don't die in space," Labberson said, as she continued her path. "we take more risks in a given day than anyone else does. I heard star fleet starships that are old do go into anomalies but come out alright."

"They do."Michael said.

"Well, ours does, but, things are not where they should be. It takes awhile for the anomalies change to be undone," Labberson said, fondly.

"How long have you been serving on this ship?" Michael asked.

"Hard to say. . . I lost track after the Klingons attacked my first command. Everyone I knew, dead, my ship became a trophy," she had difficulty swallowing. "maybe ten years ago? I like where I am now. No Klingon face to face interaction. Whenever I see one, I get . . ." she briefly closed her eyes with a sigh. "I am back in that hall watching my crew be slaughtered."

"You fought them," Michael said.

"I killed their leader," Labberson said.

"I grieve with thee," Michael said, softly.

 _We are shown a scene of a younger version of her standing in the hall holding a blade while the lighting in the hallway was glowing a light red. Her chest heaving up and down. The audio evacuation command was being sent out. The Klingons gawking at her, staring at her, looking down at what she had done. Her uniform partially torn here and there with her long, braided white now free. Her hand clenching the handle of the dagger. She had the blood of Klingons on her hands. Even the blood of her crew seen here and there on her uniform in the shape of hand prints on her pant leg._

"They just quickly left," Labberson concluded. "I don't know they didn't bother to finish me off."

"Because you gained their respect and honor," Michael said. "Someone who is not afraid to kill in battle is someone who can eliminate the entire chain of command."

"Maybe so. You had it off better," Labberson said. "Don't argue with me about that." Michael closed her mouth. "Unlike everywhere in space. . . this feels like home," the two women continued the walk down in silence. There were wide screen windows displaying stars flying past as long specks of light. The occasional piece of scrap metal flying past. Labberson was in a similar outfit to T'Frank except it was different. She had a white buttoned up shirt with a vest that had a old fashioned watch peeking out of the pockets and trousers that ended above the ankle showing a large scar. "this is my night shift uniform."

"That's a civilian attire," Michael noticed.

"It is," Labberson said. Michael raised an eyebrow. "Morning shift, well, it is more standard."

"How standard?" Michael asked.

"That depends," Labberson said. "On what your definition of standard is."

"In uniform," Michael said. "This is a Vulcan expedition vessel."

Labberson laughed.

"You know the uniforms being shared with the Constitution Classses only?" Labberson asked.

"Yes," Michael said.

"That standard," Labberson said. "Captain allows night shift for us to be comfortable. It is your choice to be in uniform or out of uniform." She looked over toward the woman. "Uniforms are different in here. They are more like Vulcan style meets human style. Sciences blue, medical blues, security reds, and the green shirts were just phased out for the gold."

"I have not seen any green shirts," Michael said.

"It was a fast change," Labberson said. They came to a sudden stop. "These are your quarters." she gestured toward the small door. "Forgive the size. This used to be a Tellarite vessel before being reconfigured for a Vulcan one. Note the addition of the ring that doesn't match the ships primary color."

"I did not notice," Michael said.

Labberson smiled back at her.

"You're going to like your quarters," Labberson handed the woman a padd. "Here is our typical schedule." Michael scanned it.

"Ducking for cover, sick bay, analysis, . . ." Michael glanced up. "this often happens with anomalies on this ship?"

"Yes," Ladderson said. "good night."

Michael slid her fingers on the screen to see the actual technical schedule. They were going to a part of federation space that some ships didn't bother going because it was too much of a hassle for the crew. The other part of the schedule indicated that after they searched a new anomaly, they were going over to a planetary system that most deep space assignments avoided. Vulcans hadn't decided to touch it, yet. It was only labeled as Gorik. M class planet. She entered her quarters that felt not as cold as she expected. On the windows there were a series of bars. There was a standard issued bed. She placed her bag onto the bed then unzipped it.

She took out her Alice in wonderland novel, her Vulcan diploma, a meditation mat, and various other belongings that she had taken from her quarters before departing the Shenzhou. The crew of the Shenzhou had been reassigned after the loss of their ship. Most ships were toured into a ship yard, more of a grave yard than anything, while star fleet decided what to do with them. She glanced down toward the holophoto that had various pictures inside one frame. The crew of the Shenzhou, her biological parents, her foster parents, and pictures of her achievements growing up, She placed the photo onto the counter where behind the photo was placed the diploma. She took out the Vulcan IDIC medal that she had retrieved before departing for the Valor. She slipped into the bed once getting undressed and into her typical night wear.

Michael sighed turning to her side.

Alone to her devices.

The humm of the ship was loud and noisy.

Sounded like they had a bad basement.

She can hear a door open and then close.

Michael opened her eyes to see no one there.

The doors opened and closed.

"Tellarites and their glitches," Michael was relieved. Tellarites were the most likely species in the federation to be dealt with problems in their ships due to the construction. Her eyes slowly closed listening to the old, creepy doors opening and closing. It was background noise to the lonely bedroom. There was a loud bang that disturbed her from rest. It had to be the engines. She heard the loud, metalic bang again.

 _"But you have never been disturbed by its engines?"_ his question came back up.

Now she had.

How do the crew sleep through _that_?


	4. Chapter 3

The bridge to the Valor was quite drastically different compared to the Shenzhou. It was smaller. There was not a large amount of space in the center but a few feet from the navigation and helmsmen station. There was paneling surrounding the center except for the break leading in from three sides. The starship was warm, and cozy, except for the quarters. She had changed it before falling asleep. She had been acquainting herself for the past few days with the Andorian security crew members. The bridge was bright and colorful as though the light settings had been drastically changed by the new crew. She saw a older man with graying silver, curly hair leaned against the chair with his head vanishing behind it. There was enough space, like the hallway, for two people to be in the same elevated surface. There was a series of stairs that lead down. She looked around in awe seeing the friendly scenery.

"Welcome to the Valor," came a woman.

Michael looked over to see a dark woman with graying dark hair that was in a afro.

"Greetings," Michael said. "You must be Commander Jemison."

"That I am, but you can call me Grace," Grace said, with a pleasant smile. She looked over toward the captain's chair. "step aside. His bondmate is going to come in your direction and you can't stop him when he is going," she had a fond laugh. "I wonder where he gets that energy from at his age." Michael came to the side tilting her head. There was something familiar to the woman. She looked like a certain Commander who was patrolling the neutral zone but then she didn't. Her earrings were long and beautiful just as she was. She had laughter lines on her face. "What brings you here?"

The woman's voice brought Michael back into reality.

"I was called to the bridge," Michael said.

"Ohh," Grace said. Grace observed the woman. "Michael Burnham right?"

"Yes," Michael said.

"You are going to love today," Grace said "not many star fleet officers get to do this." she gestured at the screen where there was fog surrounding a planet that was obvious with two sets of moons rotating around it. Michael turned her head toward the older woman with a raised eyebrow and her hands locked behind her back.

"That is Gorik," Michael said.

"It is," Grace said.

"Why are we in orbit?" Michael asked.

"The mystery of the mist is why," Grace said. "or you will find out." She looked over watching the man pass on by whistling. "All right, young lady," she gestured toward the captain. "go on, go on, it's your turn."

Michael then noticed that there was a Vulcan at the engineering station, another at security, and basically all the other stations. Grace seemed to be a unmistakenable exception which stood out plainly as odd. What was her story? Their story, in fact. Vulcans wouldn't just randomly give a aging command their own ship just to keep them occupied, would they? If they wanted to serve and explore, then it would be logical if they had gone through pressuring the Vulcan High Council. She came to the captains side.

"Your knowledge in first contacts will be required today," the captain noticed the red uniform. "You choose security over science?"

"I can be chief of science and security," Michael said. "is it not logical to apply someone who is skilled in Vulcan Martial Arts and xenoanthropology to do both?"

"Yes," the captain said. "That is. You made your point," he rubbed his chin looking over toward the view screen.

"Why are we making first contact when that should be left for Star Fleet?" Michael asked.

"Most of the ships that would have been able to do this are currently engaged with Klingons trying to make trouble," the captain said. "we are the only ones nearby."

"That explains it," Michael said, after being considerate.

"You are going down with my bondmate, and you must not, under any circumstance, let any isolationists or Klingon infiltrators get to him," the captain said. Michael tilted her head appearing to be baffled raising her right thin eyebrow back at him. The captain then elaborated to Michael, "he is the kind to be targeted."

"Why not go with him, captain?" Michael inquired.

"I have other matters to attend," he glared toward the security station then back toward the woman. She looked over to see the Vulcan who had been rather xenophobic toward her over the past few days attempting to make himself small. She turned her attention back on the captain. "this is more important. He is only there as a back up in case. . . You say something you really don't mean."

"That will not happen," Michael said.

"Commander," the captain said. "I once said that." Michael raised an eyebrow. "These are a very touchy civilization. Like the civilization I dealt with: I ended up nearly breaking first contact. I only had three of my greatest friends there to fix my screw up," he a fond small laugh at the memory. "Seems so amusing nowadays."

"You do not need to be cautious," Michael asked. "I have successfully aided in first contact among various species with Star Fleet." The captain appeared to bemused.

"Cautious? Me? No," the captain said. "cautious is me going down there with a phaser, a security team of five, and bringing along Commander Jemison."

"Your experience is valued," Michael said.

"If you ever wish to be captain, get creative, use everything you have," the captain said. "and listen."

Philippa's comment echoed back, _"Being a great captain means you_ listen _to your first officer."_

"Advice taken," Michael said.

"You can only take two security officers," the captain said.

"Is there a real reason you want me to protect him?" Michael asked.

"Sometimes, we need to remind ourselves what we are in space for," the captain said. "You are fully capable of this mission, I am aware, but this is a one time addition with my bondmate and trusting you with him is a very big thing." he shook his index finger from side to side. "he will be waiting for you in the shuttle bay."

"Yes, captain," Michael said.

"And by the way, check your padd," the captain said. "you will need to read up what the observation teams found. . . You are dismissed, commander."

Michael walked away slowly taking her padd out heading her way toward the turbo lift then pressed on a panel and the doors closed on her.


	5. Chapter 4

Michael came down to the small shuttle bay that had lined shuttle crafts in large cubbies. It was remarkable that there was enough room for shuttle crafts to escape when there wasn't that much room for people to walk around. It was difficult getting used used to walking down the halls expecting for a group of two people to pass by when only it was a line of people passing by holding what seemed to be snake skin. She climbed down the stairs then came into the shuttle bay where three Vulcan security officers were getting their gear prepared wearing armor. The first officer, compared to them, was in colorful attire that fit his rounded figure. And he generally seemed to be happy to be in the small shuttle bay.

"Commander," T'teen greeted Michael.

"Hello there! You can call me bondmate," the first officer said, with a bright warm smile. The human chuckled while the other dark haired Vulcans rolled their eyes. "It sounds cooler when being greeted by 'Captain and Bondmate'."

"Just call him officer," T'teen said. "that's what we all call him."

"First Officer Bondmate, your SO has strictly informed me that you must not wander off during this mission," Michael said. The joy in the man's hazel eyes soared. "Is that clear?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, very clear," the first officer said. "That is so cute. Wanting to make sure I don't forget that we're abiding the prime directive." he walked onto the shuttle with a warm laugh.

"Don't call him Bondmate," T'teen said. "Just don't."

"Why?" Michael asked.

"The first officer is going to be so full of himself when he gets drunk," T'teen said. "he is getting into his years so he is not supposed to be going onto away missions per David's request." The vulcan shook his head. "Surak rest his soul," he turned away then boarded the shuttle craft.

"And we have to bring him back and get our butts chewed out by the captain," Sybuc said. "we don't want that. He is going to use your weakness on making him happy."

"That would not be a wise choice," Michael said. "I have dealt with advanced aged species and I am unable to be swayed by their charms."

"You just called him Bondmate," Sybuc said. Michael was unable to reply. "We all fail sometime on not being swayed by him."

"Are all humans like this in their advancing years?" Michael asked.

"I should ask you," Sybuc said. "you served with one for seven years."

"She is . . ." Michael looked over toward the man. "not as advanced."

"Keep telling yourself that," Sybuc said then boarded the shuttle craft.

The two security officers were in the lead of the shuttle craft that was small and packed different compared to the USS Shenzhou that was testing out the new shuttles that felt more like a bus with seats against the wall and a wide space. There were a series of seats behind the two main ones. She came over coming to the side of the first officer. She had entered through the side that didn't have a back end entrance. The side door gently closed. She took out the buckle then placed it on her lap. The man took out a novel. He gently tapped on the side of his head. His eyes lit up and he slumped into his seat with his seatbelt below his stomach. The novel had yellow pages. The novel looked as though it had been well taken care of. Well read. He had a hat placed alongside himself on the chair. Michael briefly closed her eyes then dealt with her thoughts accordingly organizing them as the shuttle craft began to lift off. The shuttle craft flew through the barrier darting toward the planet.

"We have lifted off, Valor," T'teen replied. "Away team will signal upon landing."

"Good luck," came the captain's voice over the communications device. "to all of you."

The first officer looked off from the book with a warm smile toward the vastness of space.

"Shuttle Craft Kyi'i out," T'teen said. T'teen looked over toward Sybuc. "classic music?"

"That is appealing," Sybuc said.

"Which one should I chose?" T'teen said.

"I would suggest nickleback but the band plays loud music," Sybuc said.

"Tick tok?" T'teen said.

"With the volume fixed, it would be a tolerable song," Sybuc said.

"Put it in," T'teen said.

Sybuc took out a yellow disk then slid it into the wide, almost thin hole.

T'teen fiddled with the screen changing the tune of the volume. Slowly music that was familiar and joyful filled the shuttle craft. The Vulcan's heads began to move along to the beat of the song tapping their feet to it. It was illogical to find two Vulcans more interested in hearing classic pop music while on the way down to a planet. Michael detered her mind away taking herself to her mind palace where sound could not enter. She did the probabilities of the chances of what could or may happen on the away mission. The shuttle craft flew toward the planet changing its speed and direction. Both were changed as it tore through the atmosphere. The two men looked over to see the hub of activity where the warp trail had been detected to originate from. The speed limit became slower and slower. The shuttle craft gently landed down to the planet surface. People gasped as the side door began to open slowly. Michael was the first to come out of the shuttle craft, flanked by the security officers with the first officer by her side. She had her tricorder on her belt complete with the universal translator powering on that was a long stick with that had two buttons up front. She turned on the device that instantly upgraded with a melody.

Michael approached the group.

"Which one of you flew the rocket?" Michael asked.

A lone dark woman stepped forward. The crowd parted to reveal that a small triangle shuttle laid behind her with smoke drifting out. The woman lowered her googles to reveal that she was blind in some way or another. She had her helmet laid against the side of her figure. She slowly walked toward the Star Fleet officers. She wore what seemed to be a hijab, a dark one, that framed along her face.

"I did," the pilot said. "I am Behurly Teh."

"Greetings," Michael performed the ta'al. "We are explorers. It is customary to welcome a new warp based civilization."

"Are you the only ones?" Behurly asked.

"No," Michael said, lowering her hand. "I am Commander Burnham, chief of security and science, of the SS Valor. And this-"

"First Officer of the SS Bondmate," the first officer said. "ooops, sorry, SS Valor. We come in peace."

The men and women shared concerned expressions.

"Where do you come from?" Behurly asked.

"Earth, born and grown," the first officer said, in a warm kind of speaking that sounded like he was proud of her. He looked at like someone who admired and respected. He turned his head away from the young woman. "This officer here, born on Earth, grown up on Vulcan. And our two security officers were raised on Vulcan."

"We are from a different planet," Michael said.

Behurly came forward.

"Can you kill our leader?" Behurly asked.

"It depends," Michael asked, as the group seemed to be caught off guard by the request.

"Our president is trying to wipe us out," Behurly said. The first officer smiled back, politely, while internally screaming.

"Excuse us," the first officer said, turning away from the group taking Michael with with his hand on the center of her back. They went back into the shuttle. The door closed behind them. The rounded additional window displayed the confused inhabitants. "did I just hear they ask us to assassinate their elected leader?"

"Yes sir," came T'teen and Sybuc.

"It is against the prime directive to interfere," Michael said.

"It's a shame that we can not do a thing about it," the first officer said.

"The file failed to mention the president taking actions against his own people," Michael said. "did something change."

"Yes," the first officer said. "a unfair election. Someone once dealt with something like this."

"And what happened?" Michael asked.

"The people casted their vote and got a fit, sane leader after the other was impeached for psychiatric reasons," the first officer said. "I doubt the president of this planet would be insane or purposely destroying his society. "

"The file did mention they have been dealing with problems regarding their religion,"

"It couldn't have been that bad, couldn't it?" the first officer asked.

"In my experience, when a file has not been updated in a long time and the context isn't there," Michael explained. "the severity of the situation has worsened or improved by then," they glanced over toward the waiting crowd. "we cannot interfere in their civilization, unfortunately."

"Unless this leader is a robot," the first officer said.

"That would be a exception," Michael said.

"Too bad there isn't," the first officer sighed. "Let me tell them."

"First Officer," T'teen said. "no, sorry, don't tell them."

"I agree," Sybuc said. "they will not be friendly. The files indicate they were hostile when they were told no by observation teams regarding helping them," Michael glanced over toward the two. "you can evade the question." Michael looked off toward the group then turned her attention back.

"Inform the SS Valor," Michael said.

"Inform them what?" Sybuc asked. "That we can't bring them into the federation because they'll be dead in a year?"

"Inform them that I am on a away mission to observe them," Michael said. "We do not have enough information to indicate how their governmental system is structured."

"Commander-" the first officer said. "a away mission means _you come back_."

"First Officer Bondmate," Michael said. "you say that as though I won't." She tilted her head leaving a long pause between them as the desperate first officer stared back at her.

"There is always a chance," the first officer said. "we don't leave one of our own behind. T'teen inform the Valor that we are on a on-going away mission. We will check back in five days and if we don't. . ."

"Standard protocol?" T'teen asked.

"Yes," the first officer said. He looked off toward her. "let's see how we can help them _without_ violating the prime directive."

"Perhaps they are not touchy after all." Michael remarked.


	6. Chapter 5

Hiding the shuttle craft on the planet was easier said than done. Because finding the right cave to hide it in and make it seem not suspicious was difficult. Behurly lifted her hijab off to display several ridges along her face. Michael seemed to be intrigued by the woman's appearance. The first officer grew a beaming, appreciative smile back at the woman. T'teen and Sybuc raised both of their eyebrows at the extensive ridges present on the females while the males had dark spots decorating where the ridges would be.

"You can help, can you not?" Behurly asked.

"We can try," Michael said. "if your democracy is structured as any other democracy, we can do what we can."

"First," the first officer said. "you explain to us how your democracy is structured. Can he be impeached? What are the factors that can lead to impeachment? What can or can the president do? Is he controlled by the senate and the house? Or is his own party losing a grip on him slowly as his he goes out of control?" Behurly started to tear up.

"That is enough," Michael said.

"It's all right," Behurly said, gripping on her hijab. She was very emotional. She dabbed at her eyes using the hijab with great care. "I thought this day would never come."

"How come the people never revolted against him?" the first officer asked.

"Denial," Behurly said. "the others practice a different faith. Their women do not cover these parts of their faces." she carefully put the hijab back on. "We practice a different faith then they do."

"It doesn't matter what you practice on my world," the first officer said.

"There was a terrorist attack over twenty-five years ago," Behurly said. "two women was in the attack. There were thirteen other people of their faith that had orchestrated it, and now, they see it that the side of the population should be exterminated for just being there. Two transportation planes flew into three towers."

"Three?" Michael asked.

"One fell," Behurly's mate, Elik Teh, sat down alongside the woman. "they said they welcome us."

"They deport us back to death," Behurly said. "Our death. What did I ever do to them?"

"We are originally from the other end of the planet," Elik said.

"Before they were absorbed," Behurly said.

"Absorbed?" the first officer asked.

"We are one nation," Behurly said.

"Indivisible, with liberty and justice for all," Elik said, bitterly. "That part of the world, lets say, there is a federal allowed state to experiment drugs on surrounding wildlife. We are _wildlife_ compared to them. It's illegal to treat people as animals." Elik was unable to go on. Behurly's forehead touched her mates forehead. The words came back to him as he looked toward them. "And no one knows what is going on in there. There is no internet. No one can get out of there without a permit. We got here before they were passed. The other continent is blocked off."

"He can be removed from office on impeachment for or the conviction of: treason, bribery, or other higher crimes and misdemeanors," Behurly resumed. "we can't get the evidence for you." Behurly squeezed the hand of her partner.

"You are undocumented?" Michael asked.

"Yes," Elik said.

"Mr Teen, when was the last time I dove into politics?" the first officer asked.

"We had a doctor aboard to disguise you," T'teen said. "Last year."

The first officer looked over to Michael.

"Want to have some fun driving a president mad?"

"First officer, I do not believe that is necessary."

"I dealt with people like them," the first officer said. "it is very necessary to draw their attention by being loud."

"You want a press conference?" Behurly asked.

"Yes," the first officer said.

"No," Michael said

"Are you sure?" Behurly asked.

"Yes!" the two said.

"No, First Officer-" Michael started.

"You are going to take the lead and I will organize this entire enterprise. I will be in the background, is that all right?" he raised a thinning gray eyebrow at the woman. Michael nodded in acceptance. "Reaping benefits from capitalisim," the first officer looked over toward the couple. "we will need someone to help us write in your language."

"Anything," Elik said. The man sighed. "He is going to designate this city as another testing zone under the grounds that it is animal inhabited location,"he looked up toward the expedition group. "we will have to leave soon."

"They are targeting places that thrive with people like you?" Michael asked.

"In their continent," Elik said, with a slow nod. "we are going to the mountains. Everyone is."

"How. . . How does no one pay attention?" Michael asked, in disbelief.

"Because they don't care long as it doesn't effect them and their prized money," Elik said. "they believe anything the government says in the faces of facts," he shook his head. "that poor woman speaking for the white house is shaming her family."

"Sometimes I wish that our planet had a big nasty war and everyone gets over differences," Behurly said.

"It worked for us, it doesn't work for everyone," the first officer said.

"It took us decades to get where we are," Michael said. "Vulcans were very arrogant for a time regarding humans."

"Two hundred years," the first officer said.

Elik shared a knowing look with his mate then back toward the expedition members.

"We were for the matter going to the mountains," Behurly squeezed her mate's hand. "We have savings we can use. If the whole city chips in, your persona will be believable." several pairs of eyebrows sprung up. "Yes, our entire city."

"In the middle of the desert?" Michael asked.

"In the middle of the desert," Behurly said.

"How does anyone not notice a city . . ." Michael said. "that is not logical."

"No one really comes out these days," Behurly said. "as you have noticed, it is very hot. You landed in the park."

"Just how many people live in the city?" Michael asked.

"I believe ten thousand people, maybe less," Behurly replied.

"Ten thousand one hundred eighty," Elik said.

"If you wish to blend in, we have a surgeon who will do it for free. I don't know if it can be undone-" Behurly was cut off

"There is a nearby starbase we can go to and have a surgeon repair her face," the first officer said. "We will have a new medical officer by the time we return to our ship." The couple shared a glance together.

"I hope this CMO is smart enough not to be venturing around in engineering during an attack," T'teen said.

"Mr Teen, please leave the room," the first officer said, harshly. "Mr Sybuc, you too."

"First officer-" T'teen said, alarmed.

"He will be fine," Michael assured. The two men exited going outside in the hall.

"I have an idea that just might work," the first officer said. "It'll take time, memorizing, and typical Star Fleet saving a society procedures."

"We are not Star Fleet," Michael said.

"We're operating like one in the grey area," the first officer said. "if anything goes wrong, Commander, the plan is on your shoulders."

"I can act, first officer," Michael said.

"Improvising, though?" the first officer asked.

"According to my previous captain, I am a natural," Michael said.

"I bet you are," the first officer said, skeptically. He looked toward the couple. "Where is the nearest shopping center?"

* * *

"But-"

"You two are to wear beanies for the rest of this mission, my choice, and you must not ever say that about David _N!_ " the first officer chastised the Vulcan. "Because the next time you do, I will not hesitate pressuring star fleet academy to take you in and learn some respect for human loss. I told my bondmate to accept your request because your record from the previous command you used to be part in was _exemplary._ Exploring scientific anomalies and ensuring the safety of all two hundred thirty Vulcans. You are a disappoint to me and my superior officer. I will have you removed, you don't do that under my bondmate's command. You just alienated yourself a chance of being part of this command. You are to return to the ship on the shuttle craft Kyi'i and expect your transfer. You don't talk about the dead in that kind of manner. He was your friend, my friend, and he-" the first officer turned away rubbing his eyes. "Did you just forget all that?"

"No sir," T'teen said

The first officer turned toward the Vulcan to meet his eyes.

"Go back to the ship, T'teen," the first officer said. "I only hope your next assignment that it's not anywhere around me or the captain for your sake." the first officer left the visibly shaken Vulcan. Michael looked over toward the first officer. She can hear the sound of the Vulcan's heavy footsteps leaving the room. Sybuc was off somewhere else with the Tey's searching for outfits that helped him blend in. The first officer sat down with a heavy, depressed sigh.

"He should have known better to talk about the dead so soon," Michael said.

"I known him for maybe eleven years, I known plenty of Vulcans, but that man is disrespectful," the first officer said. "he is-was a doctor, he had to go down to engineering to check on the casualties."

"I grieve with thee," Michael said, softly.

"You are a D'Vel'nahr," the first officer looked toward her.

"Yes, I am," Michael said. "It is a choice I have not regret."

"Not all Vulcans are bad characters," the first officer said. "that man I chided out. . ." he leaned forward cupping his hands together. "That man is a hundred sixty. He was a Commander. He likes assignments where he doesn't lose people." the man sighed. "I should have known ahead of time."

"You couldn't have known," Michael said.

"'That he doesn't handle death well around humans?" the first officer looked up toward the woman cupping the side of his face.

"Given his record, yes," Michael said. "humans are fragile compared to Vulcans."

"I guess we are," the first officer said. He sighed. "I am going to make sure he goes onto one of those vessels. The ones that go into deep space. The Intrepid. That one," Michael raised an eyebrow. "Authorized by the Vulcan High Council. Crew of four hundred."

"The Intrepid is a prestigious science vessel," Michael said.

"I know, just not in the right way," the first officer said.

"Hm?" Michael said.

"They are going to head near a anomaly that Star Fleet has been advising going into . . ." the first officer said.

"You intend to make him learn that he can't avoid losing colleagues in the form of Vulcans?" Michael asked.

There was silence between the two in the dining room that was eerie silent between them.

"Sometimes, we have to make decisions that we don't like for the sake of the crew," the captain had a depressed, sad sigh. A look of regret settled upon his facial features. His eyes casted down on the wooden surface where his hands laid closely together in the form of a cup.

"You do not wish for fights to break out," the first officer nodded.

"We do not need a insensitive Vulcan," the first officer said. "perhaps it was the last straw serving on a multi cultured vessel," he had his knuckles under his chin. "another Vulcan biting the dust." Michael grew slightly alarmed at the mention of losing a Vulcan. "Maybe we should have become a private science vessel under Star Fleet's authority."

"First Officer, you are in pain and you are still hurting," Michael said. "And you shouldn't regret in this as we are preparing to help a civilization get its democracy back in order."

"You're right," the first officer said, then he stood up flipping out the communicator. "I will make the verbal report outside." he left the room.

Sybuc entered the quarters.

"Hello there, I have acquired new fancy attire to fit in this civilization," Sybuc said.

Michael turned.

"You look unprofessional," Michael said.

"My aesthetic is turning out just what you need," the Vulcan had a small smile. "Now to try on the other clothes. I will be having a fashion show with the Tey's," the Tey's footsteps were heading upstairs. "I will return."

Michael looked down toward the padd that had the plans for the simple mission as Sybuc made his departure. She was confused how the captain had said they were family and yet, the crew was everything but that. Vulcans were just being more outright rude than usual. A part of Michael thought that it might have been her but the more that David was mentioned, she stared to believe that they were grieving in their own way. Perhaps that was why. Everyone was hurting except for her. She wondered how the captain was disciplining them in this trying time for them. Or if he was handing out a series of reassignments with the choice that if they wanted to stay then must attend sessions with a approved counselor. Each type of alien species had a unique way of grieving. When Vulcans lost a family member, the remaining Vulcan family members open a temporary mental link to help the grieving member lean on them. It was fascinating how that wasn't done.

* * *

The bar was noisy and loud. Music was playing over the speakers. Men and women were roaring at the activities happening on the screen regarding a sport. Michael payed attention to her charge. Sybuc was alongside him slowly drinking a non-Vulcan intoxicating drink that had a brown texture to it through a straw. He was gazing down at the padd in front of him. His mind was multitasking at once. There was a occupied chair alongside him where a young, attractive woman sat thrashing her hand through her curly dark hair every once in a while. Sybuc had a dark beanie on his head that covered his pointy ears. Michael had two light gray ear buds in her ear connected to a long, thin string that ended at a small padd like object. She had her attention on the first officer retaining a mask.

"I will be fine, Commander," the first officer assured. "I am getting evidence."

"It is my duty to ensure your safety," Michael said.

"You have Mr Sybuc," the first officer said.

"And you shouldn't be drinking," Michael said, looking over toward the glass in the man's hand.

"Did T'teen tell you about that?" the first officer asked.

"He said what had to be said," Michael said. ". . . First Officer, I never seen a human leave a Vulcan shaken."

"Your adoptive mother, Amanda," the first officer said. "I find that hard to believe."

"Not the way a human would be shaken," Michael said, earning a sad smile.

"The ' _what have I done_ ' shaken?" the first officer said.

"Yes," Michael said.

"It's a specialty," the first officer said. "It just goes to show Vulcans are just as emotional as humans."

"Kleigon Surfular glass," came Behurly sliding it to Michael.

"First Officer, I do not need a drink," Michael said.

"Denial," the first officer said. "you are part of the plan. You deserve a big drink."

"This drink is as alien as I am to this world," Michael said. "and it may be harmful to you. It is a unknown substance."

"It is alcohol," the first officer said. "Only as intoxicating as the ones on Earth."

"How are you so confident about that?" Michael asked.

"I been here before a long time ago," the first officer said. "I was part of the first undercover observation teams on this planet."

"Really?" Michael asked.

"Really," the first officer said.

"Was that almost a decade ago?" Michael asked.

The first officer had a small barely noticeable nod with a smile. There was a glow about him. Lighter than his usual beaming, golden weathered glow than normal from the past few days. Maybe it was the lighting of the bar making his curly hair look darker and make him seem younger. Perhaps it was the aesthetic of the scenery. It had to be the logical answer, emotionally as well. It wasn't the drinks that was making him younger. Perhaps it was the way he beamed back at her like a protective family member proud to see her. Michael slid his drink away in front of her.

"It was," the first officer said. His attention went to the drink in her hands. "give the drink back please."

"I am obligated to ensure your continued safety, and as your security chief, you are not to be drinking alcohol," Michael said. The first officer's attention turned toward Behurly who was going over to a table from down the hall.

"Mrs Tey!" the first officer called. "Another, please."

"Belay that order!" Michael said, out of habit. Behurly approached the two with a raised, thin eyebrow. "Kou kaie blangio 'dun uh mel-niptan deruin. Sei 'du q'goo net derish leur seium leu klu mel-corian." He didn't know what she had said was hurtful in English: _Give the old man a non-intoxicating beverage. His mother does not wish for him to be drinking_." Behurly smiled back in return with a nod going past the two.

"See?" the first officer said. "I told you the translator would work."

"I am not using the translator," Michael said. "I am using a different version to learn speaking their language."

"One more day," the first officer said, as he was handed a new drink. "Give it a shot. Just for shizs and giggles."

"What shot?" Michael asked.

"Their equivalent of french winery," the first officer said, gesturing toward the drink. "akin to Picard wine."

"I have been subject to drinking Picard wine," Michael said. "my previous captain introduced me to it after my first promotion."

"Sounds like someone I would make quick friends with," the first officer said, twirling his drink from side to side gently.

"You would," Michael said.

"Try it," the first officer said. "if you try it I will lay off drinking. Nor ask for hookers to come over tonight."

"You are bonded," Michael reminded.

"We have a open marriage," the first officer said. "long as he knows, the captain is fine with it."

"I will 'give it a shot'," Michael said, then she took a sip from the glass.

"Great, now I must be the designated driver," Sybuc said, rubbing his forehead.

The first officer grinned in return.

"Live a little, Mr Sybuc," the first officer said.

Michael looked over toward the designated driver feeling the bitter taste still laying on her tongue. She saw a familiar face among the crowd, or at least, Michael thought she did. In any given planet with millions of people anyone can resemble officers she worked with in the field or on the starship Shenzhou. The chances of coming across someone resembling someone she studied with the Vulcan Science Academy was remote. There was no chance of seeing a familiar Vulcan. Michael took out a small hypospray that Labberson had handed to her as she was in the hall, " _Just for good luck. You never know when you might need to get your hands dirty."_ and the hypospray's contents were not exactly explained to her. She put the hypospray into her long dark pocket. Michael can sense a familiar presence from the back of her mind. It couldn't be Sarek, despite sharing a piece of his katra, wanting to communicate with her telepathically would be detrimental to a ' _packbonding experience_ ' insisted by the captain's bondmate.

She took another drink.

"You will return in two days after collecting the evidence," Michael said.

"You can count on that," Sybuc said.

"Long as I got this young man on me," the first officer said, looking over toward the young man. He had a glint in his eye patting on the man's back. He glanced over toward Michael. "the jet will bring us back in a few hours. What can possibly go wrong?"

"Your life, first officer," Michael said.

"It has to be more quicker than that," Sybuc said. "he cheats death." A new drink slid its way to the first officer's hand,

"Thank you," the first officer took a sip. Then he held the glass up. "To doing the right thing!"

"Doing the right thing," Sybuc said. "Commander, join on the toast!" he held his glass up with a smile of his own.

Michael reluctantly clashed her glass against the two men's drinks.

"To not breaking the prime directive," Michael said.

"This will be fun," the first officer said. From the corner of her eye, Michael again, thought she saw Admiral Georgiou.

* * *

Michael was at a press conference awaiting in the middle. It had been three days since arriving to the planet Gorik. She was sitting comfortable in business attire, long trousers, and a jacket that stopped buttoning up at he center below the breast. Around her neck was the IDIC attached to a silver necklace. The suit was a dark shade of purple letting the color bright blue bounce right off. She was waiting for her turn. The press secretary, S'era Huck'e Fee, was answering questions left and right from conservative outlits. The president was supposed to come out in the next five minutes to give a speech and walk off. Not if she had anything to say about it. She watched the poor woman leave the stage. A rounded woman much fit for a more a more honest, intelligent job. She could be selling poison to a blind man and he would believe it was what she said that was anything but that. The woman came off the stage after answering questions. Michael looked over to see the colorfully dressed Sybuc at the back beginning his part in the plan.

She turned her head in the president's direction, President Tymph.

"We are going to make our nation great again, thank you, and-yes, young woman at the back, question?"

Michael stood up.

"Yes," Michael said. "Will you open up about the crimes against Gozikan that you have committed?"

"Fake news!" Tymph said.

"How is it fake news when it is right behind you?" Michael asked.

Eyes slowly went to the screens around the president. It was like he was the elephant in the room.

"A anonymous source showed me a transaction you shared with the military fully knowing that people lived in Feiro Cardentia, the second continent blocked from internet access," there were gasps in the room as the slide show. "You are approving of a mass genocide. A holocaust of a entire culture. Just because you hate them and think they are animals rather than living, breathing Gozikans."

The presidents orange face lost color. The images on the screens showed dying children. Bodies that were coiled in ways that shouldn't with severely burned skin. Not a sign of clothing remaining on their bodies. The scenery around them was barren and dark as though it had been taken up close. Michael noticed that it was very up close. The first officer went up with the Teys's friends two days ago to another part to collect the evidence with Sybuc. Sybuc and several friends of the Tey's had returned. The first officer just wasn't feeling well to coming up. Or so she had thought. She glanced down toward the padd then back up toward the speechless president relaying what she had practiced. _"I will be fine, Commander,"_ the first officer had assured her. She liked to believe him.

"There is a survivor from Feiro," Michael said, as a familiar individual appeared on the screen.

Her heart stopped briefly. The individual was surrounded by gear normally used for radiation riddled patients on a planet that was inferior in medical technology. The face was unmistakenable behind the white curtain. She can see his face easily through it despite being at rest. There was a lump in the bed outlining his figure. A string in her heart had been pulled. There were loud gasps in the room. Michael's eyes were frozen on the man's unwell skin. She can hear the groan from the image, as though she was there, the kind of painful agonizing groan that haunted for a lifetime. She remembered the look on Sarek's face that was briefly there and gone. She found her voice continuing.

"He is currently being treated within a hospital nearby the grand house," Michael continued. "Do you have anything to say, sir, about the unfair treatment you have given to your people?"

Tymph leaned forward to the microphone.

"Wrong," Tymph said.

"It is wrong," Michael said.

"This is fake news," Tymph said. "ignore the nasty, fat unattractive woman."

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"Sir!" came a reporter, standing up. "Is it true that you authorized a program targeting Gorikans of the Tupai Faith?" the reporter was baffled.

"Is it true that you assaulted a minor and were part of a rape ring?" came another as beeping sounds were coming from the phones.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," Tymph's face was turning read. More reporters began to stand up. "security, get the woman!"

Sybuc took the commander's shoulder yanking her out of the line of Gorikans.

"Mr President, it seems you should be the one arrested for high crim-" Michael and Sybuc vanished out of the room.

There were men in dark suits appearing to come out of the doors. Sybuc knocked out three of the security. Michael managed to take down at least four following after the Vulcan. Seven unconscious bodies laid on the floor and even more were being knocked down to their feet. Michael came to a stop as she realized they were cornered. Sybuc looked down toward the padd. He looked over toward the woman easily displaying that he hadn't studied the design of the interior as much before their mission. Michael and Sybuc faced the oncoming security headed their way. Sybuc had sent several of the evidence to various agencies including the planets version of anonymous (with guidance from the Tey's on which resistance group was legit) and news organizations. Sybuc saw a ajar door then sped into it. Michael followed him in. The Vulcan closed the door behind him then acted as a shield.

"The first officer was not supposed to be harmed,"

"You can't stop when he wants to help people," Sybuc said, then looked over. "the crazy thing is, I think he knew where to go."

"Mr Sybuc, elaborate," Michael requested.

"He knew where the next spraying was," Sybuc said. "he intentionally got lost."

"Why would he do that?" Michael asked.

"No one hardly knows the reasons behind most of his decisions," Sybuc said. "quite unpredictable."

"Tell me you did not let him become a victim," Michael said.

"I thought we were going to use one of the Gorikans barely alive," Sybuc said. "it was only until the Teys's colleagues lost the patient did I realize he went missing. I found him afterwards at the meet up point after a gas strike in one of the city centers."

"He planned it," Michael said. The first officer had elaborated this in a way that left her out of the loop. He planned it from the beginning. Knowing damage that would be done by their influence on Gorik. Several questionable comments came up that he had made. Her eyes directed toward the floor as her eyes darted from side to side looking at memories that were crossing her mind. She looked up from the rug with a puzzled expression seen in her eyes. It was like he knew what was going to happen.

 _"A away mission means_ you come back _."_

 _"That is so cute. Wanting to make sure I don't forget that we're abiding the prime directive."_

 _"Relax, Mr Tey, your wife is going to have a perfectly fine baby boy."_

 _"The Vice President won't be sticking around long after the evidence is said on live TV."_

 _"Your adoptive mother, Amanda. I find that hard to believe." She never talked about Amanda among the crew let alone have her on her file._

 _The look of heartbreak on the captain's face upon telling him that he was the only ship accepting her offer._

"It seems so," Sybuc said. "now to get you to a press conference. . ."

"I believe we will not be able to go into a press conference given our current predicament," Michael said.

"Or shall we?" Sybuc said, raising a brow. "You have not been around long."

"Is the first officer and captain time travelers?" Michael asked.

"Time travelers? No," Sybuc said. "They wouldn't happen. That is highly illogical. Time travelers don't exist."

"What if they do?" Michael asked.

Sybuc and Michael shared a long, tense look. Abruptly they heard what sounded to be the sounds of bodies falling to the floor. The two were startled, alarmed, but fine. There was a gentle knocking on their door. Sybuc stepped aside then slowly, carefully, opened the door to see a freshly dressed Asian agent with curled dark hair and cheeks that stood out. Her two piece suit made the expression on her face stand out as the door came wide open with one hand on the side of the door. She didn't have any guns on her hand. She had the ridges alongside her face that seemed far more prominent than on any Gorikan's that Michal had seen so far in her time on duty. She couldn't believe who she was seeing in front of her. It was unbelievable. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't be here. The woman turned then delivered a final blow knocking the security officer to the ground then turned back toward the two.

"Hello, Michael, Mr Sybuc," Philippa said, "Mind explaining to me why you are breaking the prime directive?"

"Love to," Sybuc said. "can't leave actually. Our first officer is being treated." He looked over toward Michael who was staring longingly at the admiral. The admiral was returning the long stare, but it was a fond one. "And we have a press conference to be attending, in, oh, thirty-nine minutes if we somehow get out of here, and you two stop staring at each other like a pining couple."


	7. Chapter 6

"This is a away mission?" Philippa asked.

"Yes, and we will have not broken the prime directive by the end of it. Not ready yet for official first contact." Sybuc said.

"Then why are you here?" Philippa asked.

Sybuc and Michael shared a glance then back on the admiral.

"It would be more reasonable that you answer the question first, admiral," Michael said.

"When you answer my question," Philippa said.

"Admiral," Michael said. "You are evading the question. Admirals don't do that. You make a terrible politician."

A familiar warm, fond smile grew on the older woman's face as her eyes rested on Michael.

"True," Philippa said. "I never took you for a politician. You were always a scientist."

"If there is any chance of establishing first contact and welcoming them to the federation then they must be alive for the formal process to be performed," Michael said. "Even a scientist knows that lives cannot be ignored when they are heading toward extinction."

"They will be, anyway," Sybuc said. "if the president is let go, as humans used to say, scot free. His campaign will be even more aggressive."

"We will be required to arrive at a press conference," Michael said. "it is the final nail in his coffin."

"Oh, where?" Philippa asked.

"22nd Avenue, Zehig Dehuris Street three blocks from the grand house," Michael said.

Philippa took a thin strip of what appeared to be a old fashioned bubblegum holder turned into a long piece of metal with small buttons from her pocket.

"I can take you, but you have to explain to me all the parts of your plan," Philippa said.

"In front of the supreme court," Sybuc added. "First Officer's insistence we do it 'dramatically'."

"As long as we fulfill the mission parameters we can explain," Michael said.

Philippa put in a address.

"What a coincidence, I was there last week," Philippa said. "Who would have thought? Hold onto the stick."

The two officers grabbed onto the stick on both sides. Suddenly, they were surrounded by blue lighting. They vanished in a blue flash disappearing in the nick of time. Two more security officers came to the sighting where they had been before. They shared bewildered expressions as they noticed the fallen security officers laid on the floor. Our scene made way into a colorfully brown scenery with a large staircase where people were either going down or up within a building. In a blue flash appeared the group in the corner of the room. Michael took out a thin, flat device to check a picture. She took the scrunchy off her curly, long hair that cascade onto her shoulders. She shoved her scrunchy into her pocket.

* * *

Tymph was escorted back to his luxurious golden office. Media reporters were prevented from going in to the officer blocked off by the remaining security service on him. It was surpsirinsg how the service hadn't stopped giving him security to protect him when he has made them go to expensive locations including his magnificent, towering hotel. Tymph Hotel. The reporter had caught him and his team off guard. He needed to be told just how good he was doing for the sake of his voting base. To know they supported him. He looked over toward the wide screen across from him in the empty room.

De'kur channel, the channel that praised him and called him 'Dekuari's savior.

'The darkest hours are over', one reporter had said after the election came in.

'He is just new to this', Yehy'k had said while standing in the glorious united nations.

'This repeal was illegal! The previous president had no authority and he does!' his followers cried.

He turned the volume up.

"And it seems that we are being given-BREAKING NEWS, we have been given evidence that President Tymph allegedly raped a child. The victims have yet to come forward regarding this new story. This could be men's room talk. Men's room talk, probably a liar. Why is that they have never approach this story? Might not be true at all. This could be a childs fantasy." Tymph grew a wide, devious smile.

No one could ever believe a victim not even the ones he paid off.

They were never going to come forward.

He was going to win, just as he did every time, working with a unusual group of Gorikans that had ridges on their foreheads. They spoke with strange accents yet assured the man that they were going to handle it. The emails being leaked and tweaked, his party working against the expensive party making his parties heads lose money in business. The people finally got their heads on and let the business handle it. He was going down as the president who got things done. Getting rid of the animals who were threats. His voters would be happy to know they were being killed just like they killed thousands in a painful manner. They were superior to the other faith in every way, better looking, better skin, better faith, and sure not as hell losers. He listened to the praise for half an hour.

"Live coverage from the supreme court with Deluh S'forh," came the reporter.

And then he saw the face

The face of a blonde eighteen year old, and another, and another, and another, she was surrounded by them. They looked awfully familiar. He looked over toward the glasses on the table set for the eclipse. Which was today. He looked over toward the doorway to see a series of reporters now gathered at the back of the grand house. When was the eclipse supposed to start? He turned back in the direction of the screen to listen to what the woman had to say. He turned the volume up.

"-And since then, I have gathered more victims willing to step forward," Deluh said. She had a small circular birthmark between both eyes set above her nose. The wide screen made her facial features stand out. It was high definition. She commanded the attention of the crowd onto herself. "a far recent victim has stepped forward. This victim was rescued from a sex ring and agents part of her abuse should know that there are several lawyers willing to take them down as they did to her. High profile lawyers are willing to sue the president for his acts against Gorikan kind."

His blood ran cold as the young minor came up front. Her eyes lacking any emotion as though she were dead inside. Her face blank, lacking any form of emotion, she drifted to the woman's side while Deluh spoke. Deluh nodded toward the youngest Gorikan. She was in lazy attire consisting of a hood and her hair was frazzled. She had circles under her eyes. Her skin was pale not at all healthy appealing. It was as though all the hope and youth had been meticulously sucked out of her body. The scenery was starting to get dark as the woman resumed talking. The young woman had been arranged by his campaign team to interview him. He was left alone. No security. A defenseless, vulnerable woman. He started to feel small as Deluh continued to speak.

"These brave women have came forward as they were targeted for being a different faith. They were people he could push around, pay out, and relocate," Deluh said, as the sky turned to pitch black. "The very place where he is targeting. To wipe out people who have a different skin color. A entire genocide for those who look differently from himself." her voice changed yet it remained the same with a distinctive Gorikan accent. "people who live somewhere different that they are suited to, people who decide to wear a fabric around their face."

It slowly became lighter and lighter until the birth mark was above her right eye. A colorfully dressed individual came into the room where the security was standing. His suit was colorful, with all the colors of the rainbow, that was a dark theme with the stripes dotting down the two piece outfit. His hands were locked behind his back as he stared the Gorikan down with additional ridges along the side of his face. He wore a purple beanie covering the tips of his ears. The individual came to his desk.

"I am from the Ar-Cain agency," Sybuc said. "the one certified several decades ago," he smiled placing his hands onto the desk. "I was made by the top scientists," he started to lean forward toward the orange man. "The higher ups want me to tell you: we are done."

He leaned away sliding forth a piece of paper that he had slipped in. The president's face was now a shade of white. The serious expression was glued onto the Vulcan's face as he stepped back. He stepped back watching the president slowly look down to a list of demands that was crafted by a large collection of Tymph's victimized men and women who survived the chemical attacks. The request was simple: _resign_. He slipped out of the room joined by Michael who exited another door. The small sample that Labberson had given was laid on the desk of the vice presidents office staring back at him laid beside a cup of hot chocolate while he stared into open space. A sparkle of light erupted from their figures then engulfed them entirely with a hopeful, unique melody vanishing within the hall.

* * *

They reappeared on the transporter padd. The room was black and blue, bright, hopeful colors. Michael walked off the transporter padd side by side with Sybuc. They walked off the transporter padd then headed down the hall. There were so many officers who had silver shirts on within the corridors. It seemed rather new. People stayed out of the woman's direction. She came to the turbo lift with Sybuc. The doors opened automatically before the two allowing them in. They turned around then gave the audio command. Sybuc took off his colorful suit to reveal his two piece outfit as did Michael. When the doors opened, there were two officers in steam punk like uniforms that had visibly dark colored IDIC symbols on their chests seemingly pinned on.

Michael stepped aboard then looked at in awe.

"Very roomy compared to the Valor," Sybuc remarked.

"Very large," Michael said.

"I hate it," Sybuc said.

"The admiral is waiting for you," came a woman's voice. The captain's chair turned in their direction to reveal a gray woman with machinery like appearance. "You will need to wait as she is speaking with the first officer." the chair rotated away back toward the planet visibly laying down below them.

Sybuc looked over toward the short human.

"To think you don't miss this," Sybuc said. "you are just weird."

"I do not yearn for command, Mr Sybuc," Michael said.

"I wasn't making a comment about that," Sybuc said. "normally a human would like being around their own and a big bridge."

"You would miss the valor," Michael said.

"I would," Sybuc said. "because that is where I belong."

"What happened to you?" Michael asked.

"I used to be a first officer," Sybuc said. "we were going through an anomaly. We came across a planet that was paradise. There was a unrecorded mutiny, the captain did not want to let the crew go, and I, and I-" he became broken up. "I failed my duties to protect the captain," _Sybuc, in his bright uniform, slowly came over to the captain's side. A pool of green blood resting by the captain's side. The captain's uniform had a hole in it with stains on the side spreading to the other side of the torso. At that moment, his entire world was breaking in his eyes. The sighting of boots leaving the bridge went in a single filed line._ "After the altercation, The crew left," _the doors closed behind the last crewmember while the Vulcan slowly picked up the older captain who had longer hair by the shoulders._ "and I remained, I was the only crewmember left when the anomaly ceased," he looked over toward Michael. "I have no interest commanding a ship after a mistake like that."

"You should not judge your future command over one mistake," Michael said.

"I would have let the crew to death if I was in his seat," Sybuc said.

"How are you sure they're dead?" Michael asked.

"My bondmate was among them," Sybuc said.

"I understand," Michael said.

"Sure you do," Sybuc said. "you spent the beginning of your career on a starship you can't imagine your career away from."

The doors to the ready room opened letting out Saru in his golden uniform lacking the golden stripes on his shoulder. Michael's face remained stoic not relaying the bitterness of having to see him finally at his dream rank but because of her mistake. Saru's danger ganglia were sticking out from the side of his head. He carefully tucked them back inside walking away from the two making his way toward the chair. Sybuc and Michael went into the captain's ready room. Commander Landry was there turning off the screen. Philippa nodded in return.

"You are dismissed, Landry," Philippa said.

Landry walked out of the room.

"Admiral," Michael said.

"Where is your first officer located?" Philippa asked.

"We can't interfere with his health," Michael said. "our hands are tied."

"That's the cost of abiding the prime directive," Sybuc said. "until he recovers, the first officer is stuck."

"We will be overseeing his protection," Michael said. "lots of people would like to get rid of evidence. And we would like to know why you were there. . . as I recall, admirals don't go on missions."

"There are things admirals do that most officers are not aware of," Philippa said. "I was leading a undercover observation team. . ." she leaned back into the chair cupping her hands resting into the comfortable, brown warm chair. "Most of whom is currently getting their disguises being undone by our chief medical officer. I have yet to meet the captain or your assignment."

"They are currently mapping out a new anomaly that appeared somewhere around this sector," Michael said. "a very obscure location."

"It's a science and exploration vessel," Sybuc said. "the ship is built to not be picked up by your sensors."

"So your assignment is a refitted Vulcan expedition vessel," Philippa said.

"Yes," the two said at once.

"I sense that you two require time alone," Sybuc said. "I will be at the first officers medical room."

"I will see you there," Michael said, then Sybuc walked out of the ready room.


	8. Chapter 7

Michael had initially believed that she would not stand in the same room as the admiral after receiving her punishment. Philippa was in her admiral shoulder stripes, the admiral's badge on her chest, and the golden deltas. On the woman's desk laid a Asian doll, one that the woman had kept on the Shenzhou. On the woman's desk laid a peculiar item that looked like a structure of rocks meeting with a circular formation. Beside that laid a commercialized version of the IDIC badge. There was a bookshelf with several books stacked alongside each other in a orderly fashioned. All of which were classics, Michael wouldn't be surprised if they were the same novels from the Shenzhou. Philippa loved reading. It was likely that she cleaned out the ready room before leaving the Shenzhou. There were words that she wanted to say but they could not come out. The admiral came around the desk then presses on a series of buttons, "Computer, activate site to site transport."

In a golden flash of light they are transported into a unique scenery.

Michae was awe at the sight. She looked over to notice they were mushrooms.

"This is our warp drive," Philippa said. "we call it spore drive. Experimental."

"Fascinating," Michael said, in a low and intrigued voice. She looked up from the glowing mushrooms. "spore drive?" she raised a thick eyebrow in return.

"It is what you think," Philippa said. "Paul Stamets and his working partner, Straal, are responsible for this development. Both head of this garden. I like to call it a garden but they prefer to call it 'a lot of fungis'," Michael raised a eyebrow. "A beautiful community of mushrooms."

Michael looked toward the fungus. There were non living carcasses lining a portion of the scenery that was shielded off. It was the time of the day where half of the mushrooms were blocked off from the rest of the officers so they could eat. Michael seemed to be intrigued by the sightings of the long, some of them short, mushrooms. They were growing from a variety of sources. Michael saw what seemed to be the skeleton of a fish entangled in what seemed to be roots while it partially stood out from the ground. She stood up from the bottom of the mushroom. There were small blue spores floating in the air around them almost dancing in some ways around the two women giving them a wide circular space. There were long mushrooms that acted like a forest.

The two women walked side by side through the field of fungis.

"You were reluctant to become an admiral the last time we spoke," Michael said.

"Politics," Philippa said. "They were getting out of hand."

"I have not heard the rumors," Michael said.

"You are fortunate to not have heard," Philippa said.

"I understand how it felt," Michael said.

Michael can imagine how hurt the woman must have been overhearing the rumors. She could imagine how busy Philippa was as a star fleet admiral after her promotion. The debriefings she had before and after. A part of Michael felt pity that the woman had to deal with it. She should have never got to over hear comments. She can imagine how they sounded. And how it hurt the admiral to hear a officer say that about the two of them. They walked side by side through the fungi in silence. It was familiar to the two women walking side by side aimlessly. There were times they did the same on the Shenzhou. Coming to a stop to observe the fungis every once in a while. It felt familiar when they took a stroll on shore leave from the Shenzhou. Events that the captain had called dating. It was scenes like that which made the xenoanthropologist begin to realize that she was being courted in the human way. A woman far wiser and older beyond her years. Michael was honored to being courted by a human.

Michael can remember the warm, cool nights they shared together just walking outside. They talked at random about about things. Walking silently side by side was a pleasing experience with someone she respected at various levels. Her captain, her friend, her lover. The-then captain's hands to her side in easy view to be seen and held. Reaching out and taking her hand was a vital step in Michael's side of the relationship. And now, she didn't feel that it was earned. They came around the various plants until they came to the exit. The doors slid open into engineering. A red head was at a station looking at a floating screen with white text. There was a man sitting at a desk with one hand cupping the side of his face looking at the white uniformed dark man.

"You need a check up," Culber said.

"Had mine last month," Stamets said.

"Things change in a month," Culber said, as Michael looked around engineering.

"What?" Stamets asked. "My birthmark?"

"You could have a easily curable problem developing," Culber said. "you are a astromycologist. Spend lots of time with those mushrooms."

"Ah come on, you are just saying that to get me alone," Stamets said.

"Maybe I am and maybe I am not," Culber straightened himself looking overt to see the admiral. Stamets turned his attention toward the women. "Admiral, touring the ship again?"

"Yes," Philippa said. "I decided to give our guest one too." she looked over fondly toward Michael.

"Doctor Culber," Culber said, reaching his hand out. "you must be Michael. She talks about you fondly."

"That I am," Michael said.

"I forgot to mention," Philippa said. "She doesn't shake hands."

Culber lowered his hand to his side.

"Mr Stamets, your fungi is very . . . fascinating," Michael said.

"Thank you," Stamets said. "I am tackling one of the greatest mysteries of the mushrooms. I have the fungi from Tarsus IV at the back end," he leaned into the chair with his hands cupped together on the desk. "I don't need to expect you lurking among my mushrooms like the admiral. Do I?'

"I will not be on the ship long," Michael said.

"That's what Hugh said," Stamets said, gesturing toward the doctor. "he stuck like glue." he looked over toward the man who folded his arms giving a 'seriously' kind of glance.

"Mr Stamets, it has been brought to my attention that you have been avoiding sick bay," Philippa said, as Hugh made his way out of engineering. "when does your shift end?"

"Two hours," Stamets said.

"Make it one," Phillipa asked. "I need the top astromycologist in shape."

"Yes, captain," Stamets said. "I will get to that."

"And Mr Straal will cover the remainder of your shift," Philippa said. "come along, Michael."

"See you later, admiral!" Stamets called as the two women went past Tilly's station.

The doors opened into the corridor. There were lots of silver shirts dotting alongside the corridors. Michael looked around in amazement, curiously, at the unusual large volume of officers standing about. There were hardly a sighting of a officer in a orange shirt in the scenery. People were ignoring them carrying with their day. Michael's eyes took in the brighter theme of the corridors.

"Michael, you are aware what happened on Tarsus IV," Philippa said.

"The Tarsus Nine," Michael said. "Kodos slaughtered two thousand colonists to save the lives of the remaining two thousand from a exotic fungus that spoiled the crops. A team was sent to retrieve him."

"I was part of that team," Philippa said. "I commanded it." Michael looked over toward the admiral.

"I was not aware of this," Michael said.

"Star Fleet put our names under the rug," Philippa had a look of regret. "As a commander, I made the most difficult choice: I let him go."

"Admiral. . ." Michael said.

"Every time I close my eyes, I see the Tarsus Nine," Philippa said. "nine children," her voice grew broken up as the starving children crossed her mind. " _nine children_ , Michael." She came to a stop at a corner briefly closing her eyes and leaned against the side where the volume of officers browsing the halls had come to a halt. They were alone in the dark hall where behind them lights were on. " And I failed to bring them closure."

"Star Fleet can not always give people closure," Michael said.

"I realize that now . . . " Philippa said. "As you must realize that the best closure you can give yourself is by accepting your mistake," she faced the woman with hopeful look on her best. "you will prosper with that."

"How do you shake it off?" Michael asked. "the children . . . Kodos. . . The Klingons?"

"I think about you," Philippa traced along the woman's cheek as she faced the younger woman. "And then I am home."

Philippa traced along the familiar facial features of the young woman who was right around her height. A familiar gesture they did, together, intimately, for comfort or reassurance off duty. She let go of the younger woman's cheek. She straightened her fitting uniform to her figure. A force of habit from her previous assignment. Michael and Philippa shared a long, meaningful look with each other at each others eyes. There was silence in the corridor. Philippa turned from the woman then walked away. Michael followed after the woman.

It felt like old times, Philippa walking away but Michael going after her. The woman's hands were to her side free to be caught. Michael had the distinct feeling that the admiral was keeping something back from her. And that it was no coincidence that she was on Gorik at the same time that Michael was. They knew each other well enough to throw parties, give gifts, and anticipate their reactions. There were times whee Michael felt the desire to call the woman up some nights on shore leave when without her and her feelings for the woman grew stronger. In the end, it was Philippa who called first.

"Admiral," Michael started. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"Yes," Philippa said. "I am promoting Saru to captain," they came to a stop in front of a large window showing space. "beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is," Michael said, briefly admiring a planet ahead of Gorik.

"I won't see this often from planet side," Philippa said. "but I will see the galaxies in a new light."

Ahead of Gorik laid a beautiful planet with two moons and several disks around its surface. There was a asteroid hurling past the planet leaving a dust trail behind. The sight reminded Michael of the anomaly she had seen at the Binary Stars. Flying in the EVA suit through space. She can still picture everything in crystal clear detail to the damaged federation property, Ensign Connor's voice in her ears, and curiosity. Michael looked over toward the admiral, fine;y aged like wine, her dark hair still curly and long in a ponytail very professional like. Philippa was a beautiful woman in her prime ready to retire. There was a glow from her yellow skin that showed youth still in her veins. Her hands locked behind her back with a hold onto her wrist.

"Admiral. . . Officer Saru has a record of running away from anything curious. This is a _science_ vessel." Michael said, after a long period of silence. Philippa turned her head toward the younger woman. "he will hardly do the kind of exploring this vessel does."

"Trial and error," Philippa said.

"He has yet to learn that risk is part of the fundamental parts of sitting in the captain's chair and that there are times where they must be taken," Michael said. "he makes a excellent first officer."

"So did you," Philippa said.

"You opened me up," Michael said. "he has not. As a captain . . .he would make a mistake larger than mine. Fear controls him. He does not control it." Philippa's facial expression had turned into a smile. A happy and warm one. Yet, the look in her eye was a loving kind of one at the young woman. The admiral slowly nodded in agreement briefly closing her eyes then reopened looking on toward the commander.

"You are the best officer I know," Philippa said. "You are more than welcome to come back to Star Fleet."

"Captain," Michael said. "I cannot go back."

"Michael, I am a admiral," Philippa said. "I take care of my loved ones."

"My apologies," Michael said. "I did not mean to call you by your prior rank."

"It is alright, number one," Philippa said. "because I am always going to be the first captain of your heart."

Philippa had one hand on the woman's waist affectionately. For a moment there, Michael felt as though she should kiss the admiral. It seemed like the most convenient time, most logical, and romantically acceptable. Her right hand took the admiral's free hand, tenderly. She started to lean in toward the woman's face. A series of footsteps stopped their lips from touching and Philippa's hand yanked back from the woman's waist while Michael's hand retained a grip on the older woman's hand. The footsteps stopped in front of them. The two women turned in the direction of the young officer. A young Andorian man was panting with his hands on his knees. He gasped in a few breaths of air.

"Admiral!" the Andorian said. "the OWL project just hatched."

Philippa smiled back in return.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Thelik," Philippa said.

"No, no, no, no, we need authorization to kill it," Thelik said.

"Why?" Philippa asked.

"It came out wrong," Thelik said. "One of us made a mistake. Currently blocked off in section 5, deck 10," the Andorian straightened himself. "I don't know what we screwed up on but it's a absolute menace."

"It just hatched," Michael said.

"Yes." Thelik said.

"It is afraid," Michael said. "And hungry. It needs to be fed," her glare was that of disapproval toward the Andorian. "Baby birds are known to be starving upon being hatched and require being fed every five minutes. It will continue to create chaos if you don't have a nest built for it or a man made puppet that resembles it grown up to drop crushed insects into its mouth."

"It has talon and claws on its feathers," Thelik said. "It's got the head of a dragon."

"In the form of a baby owl," Michael said.

"A very _hungry_ owlet," Philippa said. "you said you were prepared for this."

"For a ginormous destroying machine?" Thelik asked. "No, I am sorry, we were _not_ prepared."

"Thelik," Philippa said. "Do you have a insect replicator in one of your labs?"

"Yes, we do," Thelik said.

"Get that puppet made, quickly, and subdue your experiment," Philippa said. "I will make sure you don't kill it in one second."

Philippa turned back in the direction of the younger woman then planted a kiss on her lips Michael let go of the woman's hand, relaxing, letting go of all the feelings she was experiencing aboard this new ship. She was feeling the warmth of Philippa's lips. A kind of warmth Michael thought that she would never feel again. Michael didn't want to move feeling just right where she stood. Michael's free hand outreached toward the woman's body only the admiral broke off the kiss stepping back from the commander. She regained the control and facial cool over her demeanor reaching her hand back.

"I will inform you of my answer when the first officer awakens," Michael said.

"I expect no less," Philippa said then walked off with Thelik by her side.


	9. Chapter 8

It had taken a lifetime of practice with her emotions to control them. Going from the corridor to the transporter room to the first officers medically assigned quarters were a haze to the commander. Sybuc was oddly not there. He had the coordinates to the room. Michael was consulting her emotions through a light meditative trance. Light enough to slip out at the sounds of a door opening. Her eyes were closed cupped together in her lap. The feeling that Philippa left on her lips still lingered. She had touched her lips after Philippa had walked away. She was alive, enjoying the beginning of her retirement in space. Thirty years within Star Fleet far longer than Michael had served.

It was all surreal.

Former superior officer going after a exiled ex-officer.

It never happened before in the history of Star Fleet. Perhaps, in Earth's history, it happened in different branches of authority in different infinite combinations. There are few sayings in Vulcan philosophy that were reassuring to Vulcans in their time of confusion and need. "Such things do not happen; therefore, this cannot be happening either," is Satek's fifth principle. The white scenery of the room reminded the officer that much to her disbelief, it is happening. Michael opened her eyes to see the screen displaying Tymph being escorted out of the white house in handcuffs. There was knocking at the door. She looked over to notice the absence of Sybuc.

It was odd.

Perhaps he was answering questions for the admiral.

It was quite logical.

Michael came to the door then turned it and opened.

"Greetings," Michael said, greeting the two individuals in dark suits. "You must be a agent sent to ensure the death of the victim."

The two agents shared a glance then back toward the woman as they started to slip out their guns. Michael closed the door on their faces sending them tumbling down to their feet. She brought over a chair then slid it against the knob. Gorikans, from the report, were only a strong as humans. She came over toward the resting advanced well aged man. She felt a tinge of regret. He would be alive right now had she gone in his place. She had argued over the decision of going there before they left. An hour before they had left. She was his chief of security. Notably, chief of security who were assigned on away missions went with the superior officer while the other officer either went or stayed behind to secure the scene or report to the starship. She was curious about the first officer. What was on his mind?

Who was he?

A time traveler who wisely kept their name back.

If he kept his name back then it had to be for a good reason.

Reason enough that she may get to meet the first officer after the war.

That was the only logical answer to the concealment of the man's identity.

In a blue flash of light appeared Philippa in her admiral uniform with her hands locked behind her back.

"I have some news for you," Philippa slowly approached the woman. "The Shenzhou will be ready to be commanded again in a year after significant refit." She came to the side of the young woman. "If you request to change command and promote the first officer to captain, I will allow it."

"Waking up on the Shenzhou like nothing ever happened," Michael said. "only she is under my command." a small smile grew on the woman's face. She looked over toward the woman.

"It is home, Michael," Philippa said.

Philippa unlaced her arm from behind her back toward Michael's hand on the rail. Michael turned her head away from the admiral then back toward the first officers resting body. Michael could not remember her original home. The one she was raised in for the first few years of her life before the fatal visit to the Vulcan Learning Center. The skill domes on fire. Pieces of metal collapsing above. The memories were vivid. Sarek's relaxed, calm demeanor looking back at her without a sign of fear. She thought back to the Shenzhou being the same way with machinery cackling on the bridge. Flames being on the walls around parts of corridors that were once there. She was responsible for the destruction of the second half of her life. Klingons ended the first part.

"Home does not feel the same without you," Michael said.

"Home always changes but it remains the same," Philippa said, as Michael looked toward the admiral, while Philippa's hand traveling over toward the commander's hand. "home goes through renovations from time to time. Think of it that way."

The discussion they had shared after Philippa announcing that Michael needed her own command regarding how she felt came back into mind. Michael lowered her mental shields. Michael can feel the woman's fondness and warmth through the link they shared. Michael placed a hand onto Philippa's small hand. Feeling the woman's comfort through the radiating link touched the commander. A rather touching image was sent through their link. The image slowly grew inappropriate as Philippa's mental hand traveled to the woman's thigh going over to the area between the jacket and the pants right along the zipper. The woman's fingers went under the jacket. Michael was sensationalized at the mental images fingers tracing along her exposed skin carefully creeping over to the lower half of her body. Michael briefly closed her eyes then reopened them with a sigh.

"T'hy'la," Michael said. "Is that necessary?"

"No," Philippa said. "but I like it. And so do you."

Philippa wasn't wrong.

It was doing exactly what Michael wanted to be: comforted.


	10. Chapter 9

"I am sorry about that but whatever you have is off the charts," Hugh remarked. "I am surprised you're still alive after all that." He lowered his medical tricorder once seeing the results come back as alive but carrying a infliction that wasn't viewable to the naked eye. Sybuc stared at him, blankly, in a manner reminding the doctor of Michael. Distinctively Vulcan like. Sybuc raised an eyebrow then lowered it.

"It comes with being a security officer aboard a science vessel," Sybuc said.

"Getting a chemical illness is part of that, too?" Hugh asked. "Your DNA came back as-"

"I know what my DNA came back as," Sybuc snapped, then went on calmly as though he had not burst out emotionally. "You don't need to tell me about it."

"You don't look Romulan," Hugh said.

"You don't look like an ape," Sybuc said, bitterly.

The doors to the sick bay opened letting in Saru. Saru's threat ganglia came out. He carefully tucked them back on sensing the stench of death. He looked over toward the dark pointy eared individual who had curly bowl hair cut. His eyes were a shade of blue that looked mystical at first glance. He had a 'v' shaped forehead that was common to find on some Vulcan officers. Saru had gone to know many in his time as a star fleet officer. There was something unsettling abut the individual that he couldn't put his stubby finger onto it. He came to the doctors side.

"Doctor," Saru said. "Do you mean to say we have a Romulan aboard?"

"He doesn't have super strength," The doctor said. "Can't roll a spoon into a ball if he tried."

"I identify as a Vulcan," Sybuc said. "I resent the term Romulan."

"I will have to inform the admiral and have you put into the brig," Saru said. "For all we know, you are a threat."

"If I were a threat, captain, you would have died long time ago," Sybuc said. "I am no threat."

"I like to believe you but my senses says otherwise," Saru said. "and I am not a captain."

"Oops," Sybuc said. "My mistake," he cleared his throat. "If you put me into the prisoners log, it won't be there long."

"It will be," Saru said, joined by Landry and Tyler. "Please escort the Romulan to the makeshift brig. He will be returned to Romulan Space as soon as we depart from Gorik." Sybuc appeared to be ready to say something else but he restricted himself as he stood off the biobed standing shorter than the Kelpian. Saru watched the man be taken away from sick bay then turned in the direction of the doctor. "What else did you find on him?"

"I really can't say," Hugh said. "I sent the samples to one of the labs. His fingers were fading in and out while I was making sure he was recovering," Saru stroked his chin listening to what the doctor he had to say. "it's like he is in between planes."

"Thank you, doctor," Saru said. "I will inform the admiral of what has happened upon her return. Good work."

Saru turned away then walked out of the sick bay leaving the doctor behind. The doctor turned toward his newest 'patient' of the day was beamed to the biobed in front of him appearing there with a rose between his teeth. He was briefly surrounded by golden spores that vanished around him. Hugh took the rose from the man's teeth then smelled it feeling. It smelled as though he were back on Earth surrounded by trees, birds chirping, and the green peaceful scenery. When Hugh opened his eyes, he saw someone even better.

"Stroll tonight at one of Vulcan's botanical gardens, my dear doctor?" Paul asked.

Hugh laughed, shaking his head, at his partner's move.

* * *

Philippa stood by Michael's side as the lead investigators had pictures being taken of the not-very-well first officer. Philippe wore something akin to a hijab while in Gorikan attire. The hijab covered her smooth, well carved cheeks. The part of working with someone who is psi-positive with a high ESP rating is that it coud allow for private communication. Michael's thoughts were that of worry. Michael was the kind who worried about her superior officers when it came to them being out of commission and unable to respond. It was a endearing characteristic of the woman. Humans were slowly on the track to becoming aliens themselves starting two hundred years ago. Philippa's hand squeezed Michael's. The investigators turned away from the bed then made their way out of the room.

"Do you need company?" Philippa asked.

"I am fully rested and require the first officer to awaken," Michael said. "I am adequate."

"The last time you said that, you were not adequate," Philippa said.

"I am now," Michael said. "the crew needs you. There is likely an argument between Mr Saru and Mr Sybuc. Mr Sybuc has not joined me since I came here."

"He was ill," Philippa said. "Collapsed in my ready room. He was informing me thoroughly of the mission. . ."

"Is he dead?" Michael asked.

"I have yet to receive a call from my first officer regarding his status," Philippa said. "he is likely observing the mushroom labs."

"One does normally collapse and not come down from sick bay after hours," Michael said.

"I will see what is going on," Philippa said. She flipped out her communicator. "Georgiou to Shenzhou, one to beam up." Phillippa vanished in a golden flash reappearing on the bright, colorful transporter padd. Saru walked into the transporter room. His threat ganglia out of sight, out of mind, his hands almost snakingly behind him. Philippa walked off the transporter padd to join the commander. "Mr Saru, what is going on with Mr Sybuc?"

"After giving his full name to the doctor, and his file was checked, he was listed as a deceased," Saru began to explain. "He was part of the Romulan Wars. A well known individual who participated in several battles against Star Fleet. He and his captain were what had been making a grizzly battle hard. The ship he was stationed on one day, abruptly, his crew were left dread and so was he. The manner of death has not been disclosed by the Romulan Empire. His death was announced shortly after his vessel was discovered. His captain's manner of death was released. Romulan empire accused Star Fleet of ambushing and raiding their powerful asset."

"That wasn't the case?" Phillippa asked.

"It was not the case," Saru said.

"My knowledge on the Romulan War is rusty at best. . ." Philippa said. "are you sure he is?"

"Admiral, no Earth Fleet vessel was around at the time of the death," Saru said. "We have a dead man aboard the ship."

* * *

"Get up," Labberson's voice jerked Sybuc out of his meditation. He looked up toward the blue woman. "The captain said not to get caught. He did not say leave Burnham and the first officer planetside." the woman's eyes tore through the man almost tearing him a new one. Sybuc sighed lowering his head cupping a side of his face in dismay.

"I got sick from the visit on the other side of Gorik," Sybuc said. "Not my fault."

Labberson sighed, annoyed.

"Get up," Labberson said. "we just came out of a battle from the Romulan-Cardassian skirmish."

Sybuc looked up.

"What anomaly did you just come out of?" Sybuc asked. He stood up. "How is the captain?"

"He needs medical attention," Labberson said. She looked around. "Not here. No one is familiar to his physiology."

"The files can be wiped out," Sybuc said. "It does that to me."

"You're a dead Romulan!" Labberson reminded him.

"Vulcan," Sybuc corrected. "Don't remind me. We should tell the admiral."

"Don't you understand the rules about this?" Labberson said.

"Yes," Sybuc said.

"She can't! The doctor can't! They never operated on a Vulcan! Vulcans rarely get injured in Star Fleet. Hardly ever. We are interfering if we bring him over to the Discovery," Sybuc walked away rubbing the bridge of his nose. "we are only here to prevent Gorik's untimely civilization demise."

"How about I do a mind meld?" Sybuc asked.

"You are not psi-positive, Mister Sybuc," Labberson reminded.

"Something akin to it, I brought one of those drugs that can get rid of a certain type of memory," Sybuc said. "we both get what we want."

"Unfortunately, the only one who can make these decisions is down planet side-" Labberson stopped. "why is the first officer still down there?" Sybuc stared back at her, wordlessly, then lowered his head with a sigh. She regained control over her demeanor careful not to shout. "Mr Sybuc . . ." he looked back up with a guilty expression on his face. "What happened down there?"

"The first officer and I . . . We went in her place," Sybuc said. "Timeline is still straightening itself out."

"You mean he is going to die because he could not obey the rules, again, and he can't come back from this."

"You don't know how I died," Sybuc said. "Supposed to die. That is." he met the woman's eye.

"No," Labberson said.

"I was disfigured, I was burned, my hair was falling out, I had spots all over," Sybuc said. "It was the stuff of nightmares according to David." he walked past her. "You are supposed to be alive. Most of the crew on the Valor are supposed to," he turned back toward her. "I am not. Can we switch illnesses?"

"We are not gods," Labberson said.

"We have brought people back to life," Sybuc said. "I have been part of those missions."

"Because they were not supposed to be dead," Labberson said. "those anomaly missions were why we are on the Valor in the first place."

"You joining the Valor to save people?" Sybuc asked. "I thought you joined to take on random tasks from a day to day basis because of what happened to Star Fleet in the time you came fro-" the individual fell down to the floor rubbing the side of his cheek.

"I doubt that chemical spray is responsible for the way you died," Labberson said. "Transporter malfunction, _maybe_!"

"Can it be done?" Sybuc asked, again, looking up toward her

"Without treatment, you're dead," Labberson said.

"That's what I want," Sybuc said.

"We are going back to a space dock," Labberson said. "she took a beating. I don't know how long that is going to take to get back."

"If we prevent Burnham from dying then we can save everyone," Sybuc said. "even your three dead partners. They will not be dead anymore."

"She is not the answer to everything," Labberson said.

"Would you take the chance?" Sybuc asked.

"I did give Burnham a vile. . ." Labberson said.

"It was to give her a mercy death, wasn't it?" Sybuc asked.

"Yes," Labberson said.

"She doesn't have it on her anymore," Sybuc said. He stood up using the bed as support to stand close toward the woman. "one or two people may die today to even the record out. One by a starship and one by choice. Which one is going to happen first?"


	11. Chapter 10

Michael's eyes opened as she gasped for air. She turned on to her side feeling the rounded pad to the transporter padd. She looked over to see Labberson instructing a nurse in what was a strange uniform with forehead crest and curly hair who had the first officers short arm on her shoulder. She didn't feel so well. Labberson's eyes bolted up toward the woman. Michael felt ill. Very ill. The last she remembered was standing alongside the first officer. Her eyes closed falling into a unconscious fog. She felt fatigue. Her entire body aching from a trip that had yanked her unexpectedly out off her feet. Her brown eyes opened again to see the small sick bay glaring back at her that had limited room. A dark, older man with brown eyes looked upon her. He came over toward the biobed.

"Good morning, Miss Burnham," the dark doctor said. Her familiar bonds were mute and soundless. "any bonds you have are currently in limbo right now, don't worry about them, you are perfectly fine," he smiled back standing up from the chair coming right over to the woman's side. "it is typical to feel sick when you've been beamed up during warp."

"Transwarp?" Michael said.

"Uh huh," the dark doctor said, with a nod. "Don't move around too much. You will puke if you excite yourself."

"Your advice is quite helpful, doctor," Michael said.

"You are welcome," the dark doctor said. "It's nice to meet the woman of the hour." A familiar Earthly phrase.

Michael slid off the biobed.

"I like to speak with the captain," Michael said.

"He is waiting for you in the ready room," the dark doctor said. He politely smiled back. "Have a good life, Commander Burnham."

Michael made her way out of the sick bay feeling tipsy, and a little unsteady. Her legs felt wobbly as though they were made of jelly. The feeling slowly went away as she made her way down the corridor. She made her way into the turbo lift an requested bridge. The doors closed on her. Then the turbo lift made a abrupt departure from where it was going to be in a fast, high paced sound. The sounds of the old turbo lift speeding was apparent. It shook from side to side until came to a stop. All the adrenaline, fear inducing, and shaky aesthetic were gone. The turbo lift doors opened revealing the captain's ready room. The captain sat in his chair stroking what seemed to be a cat. It was rounded and purring loudly with no sign of two ears sticking out. The doors closed behind her. She nearly fell to her feet once coming onto steady ground and used the counter as support.

"Captain. . ." Michael started.

The captain turned in her direction.

"Commander," the captain said.

"You are S'chn T'gai Spock of the Planet Vulcan directly violating the temporal directive," Michael said.

"Maybe I am and I am not," the captain turned toward her. He had scars alongside his face that were barely covered by a make shift mask. "with what you did today, you saved a part of Star Fleet. And I want to know, for sure, what is your choice on your future?"

"You mean my past," Michael said.

"One does not know whether they are in the future or the past, commander," the captain said. "time is fluid."

"Do not be vague with me," Michael said.

"we came from a Star Fleet losing a war. The longest war we have ever seen," he briefly closed his eyes, disturbed. "I will ask again, what is your choice?" he gently stroke the pet.

"It is irrelevent," Michael said. "my decision does not matter."

The captain sent a long, angry glare.

"Computer," the captain said. "bring up the file to former lieutenant commander Saru of the USS Shenzhou, star date 2256." On the screen appeared a file.

"Deceased, stardate 2257." a cold chill went down the woman's skin. "Captain of the USS Discovery," there was an edge to his voice that was suddenly there that had not been before. "All one hundred thirty-four souls were lost. Star Fleet War Council was immediately established, millions of people drafted, and scientists became people of war." The computer stopped speaking once he pressed a button.

"Explorers, that we are not, we are trying to find ways to end it." He stood up placing the tribble onto the counter. "My bondmate did not risk his life just for you to go and commit temporal suicide. Your choice must be anything but that."

It clicked in her head.

"Saru wasn't ready," Michael said. "You are implying one more year of training would have left him prepared? Training that Admiral Georgiou had given me?" the Vulcan nodded in return. "He did not give them the Vulcan Hello."

"He should have," The captain said. "your choice is relevant to Star Fleet and those that you most hold dear."

"I wish to return." Michael said.

The captain appeared to be pleased.

"One day you will look back at this," The captain said. "and this won't be one of your regrets," he pressed a button on the screen. "Ovmario, return the ship to 2256, exactly where we left the Discovery near the planet Gorik, we have to drop off a passenger," he leaned back after ending the communication. "Please collect your belongings."

* * *

The doors to the make shift brig opened to reveal Michael with her singular duffle bag while standing in civilian attire. Saru was baffled, alarmed, staring back at the woman. Philippa raised an eyebrow then looked over toward Saru then back in the direction of the commander. It was entirely surreal that Michael was there instead of Sybuc. Her civilian attire was a white blouse and long pants that ended at her ankles. She had the design of the IDIC faintly on her long pants. Her hair was up on the top of her head thanks in part to a scrunchy.

"Where is Mr Sybuc?" Philippa asked.

"He is where he belongs," Michael said. "and as am I."

"This is impossible," Saru said. "We would have been alerted of a starship appearing close by. She is either lying or either has disposed of him."

Michael looked back at the corpse that the dark doctor had shown her. His lifeless body laid on the biobed within a dark bag. It was illogical to risk his life for her own when the Gorikan president could have easily taken his and died the same day. She hadn't hear a word regarding his status while awaiting to see if the first officer was going to wake up any day. The memory of the first officer smiling back at her alongside the captain made her feel hopeful that he was okay and alive. She had done her best to preserve his life at the cost of blocking off access briefly for medical professionals. She looked off toward Saru.

"If I had disposed of him, don't you think I would have left him here and turned myself in?" Michael asked. "It is not logical to get rid of a body aboard a starship for prosecution."

"You are right," Saru said, reluctantly.

"My number ones agreeing," Philippa said, observing the two officers. "twice, in one year, thought that would never happen on my watch," she looked down toward the woman's feet to see the duffle bag. "Should I ask how. . ."

"You would not want to know, admiral," Michael said.

"Would you like to, First Officer?" Philippa asked.

"No," Saru said. "Yes, no."

"Did the Gorikans see your departure?" Philippa asked, turning her attention toward the woman.

"They left before I was beamed away," Michael said. "Permission to join the crew, admiral?"

"Permission granted," Philippa said, as a warm smile grew onto her face. "Welcome aboard, Michael."

Philippa held one hand out for the woman and this time, Michael reached out taking the older woman's hand.

* * *

The promotion to captaincy was swift and quick. The uniform replicator had the uniform laid on the center. The golden shoulder additions, the shoulder rings, the golden badge, and the golden deltas on the side. Philippa had chosen to give the woman quarters that she had personally acquired and made sure were stocked with furniture to make it feel as home. It didn't have the two bunk beds side by side. A familiar scenery seen as a ensign. Michael slipped out of her civilian attire then took the uniform with her going straight into the bathroom where the sonic shower rested. Michael came out minutes afterwards into the center of her cabin. She turned on the mirror program once putting on the captain's uniform. She felt her golden delta. The golden pips. The star like center that didn't have a flat surface compared to the rest of the center. Michael believed that she would have never come to the rank of captaincy. She was a scientist first, a star fleet officer second, and a Vulcan by nature. She hadn't been the one to look forward to promotions but only to serve and discover. And look where it brought her. To captaincy.

She came over toward the computer on her desk.

She inputted a command to pick up a radio signal coming down from the planet: "President Tymph resigned over six hours ago and has been found dead. . ."

The words were a shockwave to the captain.

Michael gripped on to the desk contemplating.

The grey area was doing the most difficult things when it came to the crew of the SS Valor.

Since it does operate in Star Fleet shouldn't it be USS Valor?

Michael straightened her new uniform. Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in hours since the first officer landed in the hospital. Sure, she had a couple drinks but not the kinds of drinks to help her keep going. She smelled fresh and her uncurled hair reeked of federation steam. She made her way out of the quarters then made sure to note the room number. She walked down the hallway making her way toward the mess hall. The Mess hall was silent with glares headed her way. A young red head with a cadet badge waved the captain over to where she sat. Michael sat down along with the young woman.

"Hello, I am Tilly," Tilly said. "Sylvia Tilly. I am a big fan of yours. I mean, saving your crew and your previous captain by giving them a . . ."

"Vulcan Hello," Michael said.

"Took guts," Tilly added, with a nod. Michael raised an eyebrow at the woman. "Big guts."

"It did not take 'big guts' to do what I did," Michael said, then she added jokingly. "my guts may be four feet long but I doubt big enough to send me down the path of a skirmish." Tilly laughed.

"You're funny," Tilly said.

"It was to even the edge in our conversation," Michael said. "you are terrified of speaking to a captain. One who has several types of trauma, layers of guilt, and survivors guilt. And it shows."

"I talk a looot," Tilly said. "that's just who I am. I ramble even when I am nervous. You're a xenoanthropologist who knows everything about the Klingons more than any officer does, you must be super duper confident, _beeeyond_ confident, very sure about what you are doing," the icy glares melted around the woman as she took a chunk out of her breakfast becoming simply background noise to the woman. "I am going to be a captain one day. You're going to be one of my inspirations."

"Captaincy comes whether you want it or not, Tilly," Michael said, putting in some tea into her glass. "you will have the rest of your career to gather knowledge and learn about protecting your crew." Michael spun the little spoon inside of it.

"So it just chose you?" Tilly asked.

"In a way," Michael said. "it did. I did not ask for it."

"That's cool!" Tilly said. "I _had_ a friend aboard the Shran, a security officer, though they had to medical retire because of the injuries the Klingons give and so far they has been having a blast at Risa! They say it has been the best time of their lives. They are also figuring out if they should pay a visit to Starbase 11 or going to one of the bases on Andoria as a . . ." Michael listened to the midshipman's rambling.

* * *

The next few days were a breeze. Michael read the crew manifest of the one hundred thirty-four crewed starship and checked every file to familiarize herself to the people who had those names. The ship was complimented diversely with aliens and humans. It had more alien off-worlders than her previous assignment had. Michael and Philippa had nights to themselves, together, alone from the crew. Michael had given a thorough tour by Philippa of all fifteen decks to the Discovery during the mean time. Michael had mapped the starship inside and out from the deck to jefferie tubes. She had memorized the jefferie tubes when she was not on the bridge. The woman laid comfortably in the captain's arms. Out of uniform.

Their uniforms were laid off the bed. The warm blanket covering up to their elbows. Michael traced the older woman's cheeks. The woman was breathing. It was hard to believe that Michael had survived with a part of her world. It was surreal. It felt as if she closed her eyes and opened them again, the admiral would not be there. Her fingers drifted over to the woman's shoulder blades. Scars of a battle well fought with some personal sacrifice decorating her back. Her beautiful yellow skin was soft and tender to the dark woman's fingers. The scars on Philippa's back came from torture in her earlier employment as a star fleet officer. Star Fleet had its fair share of skirmishes in the past. A handful to be precise. Long claw like scars trailing down her back. The alarm clock buzzed drawing the captain's foggy mind over the miracle in her arms. Michael let go of the woman's waist turning over to the side of the bed.

Michael picked up her uniform then placed into the laundry dispensary.

In a ray of blue light the uniform was returned clean and not as wrinkled.

"Michael," Philippa said. "come back to bed."

"Admiral, it is near the designated hour that you are to leave," Michael said, turning toward the woman.

"The admiralty can wait an hour," Philippa leaned forward off the bed with the bed sheet wrapped around her upper torso.

"I am not as sure for Mr Saru," Michael raised her eyebrow. "Remember the last time we were late?"

"Good point," Philippa said, sliding out of the mattress. She placed the uniform onto the dispensary. It came back moments later cool and warm. She joined the woman toward the bathroom. "You know what he cannot enter?"

"My bathroom," Michael said. Philippa nodded.

"Five minutes, you and I," Philippa said. "in the shower."

"When did you get so bold on staying out of the crews eye?" Michael asked, teasingly.

"As soon as I realized what I was going to do," Philippa said, taking the woman's longer and larger hands into her own then placed a light kiss onto Michael's lips. A light weight feeling traveled through both of the women. Michael returned the kiss, yearningly, only for the older woman to pull back once freeing Michael's hair using the hair band letting the short curly hair crash into her fingers. She untangled her fingers from the woman's light, soft hair. Michael's hair was fine to the admiral's fingertips. Michael lead the admiral into the bathroom where the door closed behind them.


	12. Epilogue

"Commander," Thelik protested.

"You should have realized what you were creating," Saru said. "it is a sapient being and must be treated as such. A newborn."

"We cannot maintain the food it needs," Thelik said. "running out of juice for the insect replicator."

"Does it have feathers?" Saru asked.

"'Yes, " Thelik said.

"There is a planet made for experiments that were not suppose to thrive on Crossfield classes, USS Glenn discovered this Class M planet last week and relocated a unusual Tardigrade onto the planet surface," Saru explained. "the environment is hospital enough for it."

"Tardigrades are _small_ ," Thelik said. "this one is twice that."

"Yes, this one was large. Highly large. It has been reported in deep space since then by other vessels. Star Fleet wants contact to be initiated one way or another with it. And to find out what can kill it," Saru said. "For all we know, your creation might be a predator."

" . . . The owlet may be extremely strong but I highly doubt a large, alien version of a Tardigrade might be eaten by a owlet. And if we allow it to live, it will likely die alone. I don't want it to die alone. I want it to die surrounded by people who love and care for it. A existence of loneliness? No companions? That is no way to live. Birds are social creatures!"

"I understand, but we cannot kill it unless it harms the crew. As a wise human once said: life finds a way," Saru replied.

"With all due respect, Commander, Ian Malcolm is not a real person," Thelik said.

"So?" Saru asked. "You see comfort in the wisdom of your fictional characters to comfort yourself. And some of their most well known phrases are right because life does find a way to adapt and change, boldly defying all odds and expectations."

"The wild life of that planet might want to kill our owlet," Thelik said. "Not every planet has a set of wildlife like Earth."

"I am sure Starbase one has a section devoted to bugs and can replicate more for the USS Glenn's trip. We are not here to be a birds personal chauffeur," Saru added. "Make sure you do not kill the creature," he turned in the direction of Airiam. "Commander Airiam, you have the conn."

Saru walked off the bridge then made his way onto the turbo lift.

He requested the deck where the captain's quarters were located. The doors closed on him from the bridge then it lead down. His threat ganglia were hidden. No threats and no sense of death nearby. It was a perfect Wednesday. The doors opened before him to Landry who was speaking with a ensign as they came past the turbo lift. He walked out of the turbo lift then made his way down. He knew what to expect when it came to the two superior officers. He had served with them for seven years. He was jealous of Michael in many ways for being the woman's first officer and learning more than he would. Perhaps that can be rectified. Apprentices turned into mentors themselves. A passing of the torch, some humans would say, to the next generation.

The captain and the admiral were known to be very late when it came to meetings because they were occupied with each other. It was a price to be paid when it came to two women who served under each other for seven years, gone to know each other intimately, and helped each other grow in more ways than one. He expected this to happen upon seeing them flirt with each other on duty. The amount of flirting he witnessed in his career on the Shenzhou between the two was somewhere in the thousands. He can remember in great detail of their strangers to friends to lovers story to anyone who was by the metaphorical water cooler. He came to the doors of the admiral's cabin, no, it is now the captain's cabin. The door chimed as he came into the room to see the two women were quickly zipping up their jackets.

"Captain, Admiral," Saru said.

"Good morning, First Officer Saru," Philippa said, then zipped up her duffle bag. "Bright eyed and bushy tailed today."

"I came here to make sure you were not going to be late," Saru said.

"Just a few minutes late," Philippa said, looking over toward the taller man. "spare no expense."

"The admiral and I will join you in the transporter room, Number One," Michael said.

"Really?" Saru asked, tilting his head. "Your personal history says to at least expect ten minutes when it comes to departures like these."

"We won't be late," Philippa said. "Commander."

"I will await your arrival," Saru said, then he turned away and made his path from the women.

Saru strolled down the corridor. Four minutes later, he came to a halt in his tracks. Did he see what he thought he had seen? No, he could not have. He made his way past the doors. His path brought him into the black and blue transporter room. Silence slowly entered the transporter room. Saru turned in the direction of the doors. It was then that he noticed what was wrong. Michael wore the admiral's jacket while Philippa wore the familiar old captain's outfit that seemed to be large on her figure at first glance. The admiral's uniform was too tight on Michael's body. Both pants fit on the officers quite well. The transporter chief was staring off toward the two officers.

"Number One?" Michael said.

"You are wearing each others uniform," Saru said. "Again."

The two officers looked down at each others shoulders and it slowly dawned on them.

"Ooops," Philippa said.

"Thank you for bringing this to our attention," Michael said, then she unzipped her jacket.

"Just like old times," Philippa said, amused. She took off the jacket then handed it over to the captain.

Michael had a small smile taking the jacket from the admiral. They switched their badges then placed them onto their uniform. Philippa picked up her duffle bag then walked onto the transporter padd. She turned in the direction of the two officers. Michael gave the order to send the captain away. The transporter chief slid up the bars. The woman vanished in a golden light vanishing before the captain's eyes. The admiral was gone in a flash. Michael turned in the direction of the tall, thin alien individual.

"In one year, I will have taught you everything the admiral taught me," Michael said.

"I do not believe a year would be suffice," Saru said. "It normally takes a decade for a first officer to learn from their captain."

"I will teach you the ones that matter," Michael said. "the Discovery will be fortunate to have you as her third commanding officer."

"Do you have another assignment waiting for you?" Saru asked.

"The Discovery is a vessel devoted to science," Michael said.

"You feel that I would thrive in a vessel that is devoted to something I enjoy," Saru said.

"Yes," Michael said.

"Well, you're wrong, I will not enjoy being captain," Saru said.

"Saru, you have waited too long to become captain," Michael said.

"No, I have not," Saru argued. "You have."

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"You were on the Shenzhou before me," Michael said. "Don't deny it. You deserve it," she turned away from the transporter padd then made her way toward the door. Saru followed after the woman tagging behind her catching up toward the side. "Admiral Georgiou informed me the next mission for the Discovery . . ." and the doors closed behind them.

* * *

The captain rested in the chair lacking a mask. His facial features looked to be somewhat repaired but there was a trail of burns along his face that spread to his right eyebrow. The gray, thinned eyebrow looked as though it would never grow back again. The air was tense within the bridge. The ship landed out of the artificial wormhole arriving outside a massive Starbase one hanging before them in the middle of space. A loud cheer was heard on the bridge. The camera panned around as the lighting in the tight, small bridge became lighter to display bright light gray theme.

"Mr Spock," his bondmate came to the side of the chair. "what do you suppose we deserve for saving Star Fleet?"

"Retiring," Spock replied, holding his two fingers out.

"I can't wait to see your sister," Kirk said, returning the gesture with a loving look down toward the ambassador. Kirk looked over toward the station ahead of them. He looked off toward the grayed Vulcan, "Do you think she is on there?"

"I don't think: I know," Spock said. "I did not expect that picking up Mr Sybuc and T'Teen would lead to everything we've seen in the past eleven years."

"We all make mistakes," Kirk said.

"Ambassador Kirk?" came the pilot.

"Enter the Starbase," Spock said. "We were suppose to meet up with my sister all those years ago."

"It might just have been a week to them," Kirk said. "We have been flying in time. She'll be happy to see you again."

"First, I need a doctor before I see my sister and her mates again," Spock said, tracing along his burns. "I need to be presentable."

"You are beautiful, Spock," Kirk said."Your sister will not mind. She will recognize you with a mask."

"Masks," Spock said. The word was left like a stray on the bridge without a joining sentence fragment. "You think that the Vulcan High Council will realize that?. . ."

"No," Kirk said. "but we do have some out of time passengers to drop off after you get the facial repairs with proper equipment and decent enough repairs to the ship."

"That I do," Spock said, as the ship boarded in.

"Look!" Kirk said. His face lit up as several starships were prepared to leave the circular part of the starbase. "The Discovery!" Spock stood up from the captain's chair looking off to see the USS Discovery, well aged and fine, hovering in a restricted section of the starbase with blue barriers all over. His hands interlocked with his bondmates large, pink fingers. Kirk's arm wrapped around the Vulcan's shoulder. Relief traveled through the bridge to see the Discovery still in the same place that it had been left in.

"Ambassador," Uhura turned from her station. "we are being hailed by the Discovery."

"On screen," Spock said. "Admiral Tilly," Kirk smiled widely in return as the woman with white curly hair stared back at the screen. Her skin seemingly not as glowing as it had been over a hundred years earlier. The gray aesthetic complimented her face. Spock gave the ta'al. "Greetings."

"Mr Kirk," Tilly said. "we were just about to search for you and your ship."

"Searching for little old us?" Kirk asked. "We can't have been gone for that long."

"You have been missing for a month," Tilly said.

"That is unnecessary," Spock said.

"Unnecessary is you not accepting the offer presented by Mr Chekov," a well aged Michael appeared alongside Tilly. They were roughly the same height in their twilight years. Her hands were locked behind her back. Michael and Tilly were in the familiar dark attire with the plain colored shirt representing their career track poking out of the uniform. "that is against federation regulations to use a science vessel not registered officially as one. This private enterprise should have been registered."

"It was for a test run," Spock said.

"And look, your ship is barely hanging on because of a _test run_ ," Michael said.

"It was worth it," Spock said.

"He means to say we missed you," Kirk said. "and we'll get right on that."

"Good," Michael said. "Philippa would like to speak with you, captain."

"Sure, sure," Spock replied. "I will give her all the time she will need. Valor out," Spock turned away from the pitch black screen. "Mrs Uhura, I am sorry that you had to be away from your wife for so long but may I ask for one thing."

"Anything, Mr Spock," Nyota said.

"We would like you to send a email to most of the crew who are not on borrowed time for shore leave," Kirk said. "and send a message to the starbase one regarding restricting a part of the starbase for our time traveling kids."

"They are not kids anymore," Spock said.

"We adopted them," Kirk said. "they are still kids."

"They have grown up under our wing," Spock said.

"I am sure they will always think of you as father and dad," Nyota said. "I enjoyed this long term mission."

"So did I," Spock said. "Admiral?"

"It was fun," Kirk said.

"That was our last wind," Spock said.

"I will see you on the starbase later," Nyota said.

The two older men smiled, nodding, in agreement. Spock and Kirk side by side made their way toward the turbo lift then turned in the direction of the bridge and the doors closed on them. Nyota sent the messages listening to the old, unbalanced turbo lift noises. Everything was back to way it was. She looked off toward the bridge crew. Everyone she held dear in their old age to Nyota was alive and well again. The starbase wasn't a graveyard of parts flying in space above Earth's orbit. She hummed to herself a melody working on her console for one last time.

 **The End.**

* * *

 **A/N T** hank you for reading this story and for giving it a shot. I am please you tried to give it a read. The time travel aspects slipped in and I really hope that Milippa's story still shone through like the northern star compared to the arch I have created. I tried, really, I did. I hope you enjoyed it more than I did! Since Tilly is a cadet on the USS Discovery, wouldn't that make her a midshipman? The scars on the back were inspired by a short Milippa comic. I also hope I got Saru and Michael's relationship down. GOT ALL OF THIS STORY WRAPPED UP. YES. YYYESS. **  
**


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